


Raise the Stakes

by TasteTheRainbow



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-11
Updated: 2012-04-11
Packaged: 2017-11-03 10:37:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/380456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TasteTheRainbow/pseuds/TasteTheRainbow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a professor, there are certain things that Jensen is not supposed to do. Jared, the kid in the back of his vampire sociology class, is one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Raise the Stakes

**Author's Note:**

> written for the 2011 spn_j2_xmas exchange.

The wind howls in erratic gusts through the tree branches, slicing at Jensen's bare hands and neck as he hurries along the path from the parking lot to the Humanities building. Moonlight washes a stripe of the sidewalk like a spotlight at his feet. 

Sharp claws dig through his jacket, pinching his skin and stringing his arm. Jensen startles and exclaims, “Jesus, Danneel, come on!”

At his side, Danneel narrows her eyes and retracts, still clutching his bicep in a death grip. “Thought I heard something.”

“What? A bird? Some kid running late for class?” He rolls his eyes, but doesn't bother pulling away. She's warm. “It's seven o'clock on a Monday night on the campus of the smallest college in America. What horrors could possibly be lurking out there right now?”

“Your sympathy is underwhelming.” She withdraws her hand and punches him in punctuation.

Jensen laughs, checking his watch as they fold into the stream of stragglers at the door of the building. Once inside, he pulls up short at the elevator and gives Danneel's elbow what is supposed to be a reassuring squeeze. “I'll see you at ten for the intrepid return to the parking lot.”

Danneel just rolls her eyes and backs into the elevator. “You are a terrible white knight,” she accuses as the doors slide shut.

Jensen shakes his head and walks toward his office. He didn't ask to teach a night course, but without tenure, he's not surprised to be stuck with one. _Bite Me: The Sociology of Vampires, Werewolves, and Other Supernatural Creatures in Popular Culture_ – Jensen didn't choose the name – is fun, but it's not the kind of thing anyone needs to take, especially this late in the day. Danneel suggested that he make attendance mandatory, but Jensen's not enough of a douche to actually go through with it.

It's three minutes after seven when he breezes into his office, dumps his jacket onto his desk, and then heads across the hall and into a small classroom containing thirteen students. He sets his iPad on the lectern before taking a deep breath and addressing the room. 

It's always weird the first day. Figuring out how to introduce himself is not something he's ever actually bothered doing. “Welcome. I'm Professor Ackles and this is _Bite Me_. If you're not here to talk about vampires, werewolves, zombies, and other bloody, messy characters, then I have no idea what you're doing in this building at this hour.”

A couple of the kids chuckle politely, as though impressing him will help them do better in this useless course.

Leaning an elbow onto the podium, he folds his hands and says, “Alright, so here's the deal. I'm a cult television and old-school horror film fan from way back. That's why I'm here. What about you?” A guy to Jensen's right raises a finger. “Name first?”

“Rick. And I figure I already know all about this stuff, so it should be an easy A.” The girl beside him kicks his chair loudly and he shrugs at her as though he has no idea what her problem is.

“Totally valid,” Jensen assures both of them. “I wouldn't wanna take a hard course during what should be my free time, either.” He winks and turns toward the left where another couple of girls, probably freshman and looking no more than eighteen, are huddling close together. “What about you?” he asks the girl sitting in the front.

She clears her throat and blushes. “Um, I'm Stella and I'm kind of a sci-fi, fantasy fangirl.”

“Like an anime fangirl or a Twihard?” he teases.

“More of a _True Blood_ kind of fangirl.”

Her friend sighs loudly and rolls her eyes, nudging Stella's back. “What she meant to say was _The Vampire Diaries_.” With a charming smile, she leans forward on her elbow and says, “I'm Kaitlyn, by the way.”

A couple of groans mingle with a couple of chuckles; Stella blushes deeper and Kaitlyn just rolls her eyes again. Jensen smiles when he catches Stella's eye and says, “You don't have to sell it to me. I get it. Hottest brothers on network television.” 

So Jensen's never seen an episode of the show. He has the internet and an imagination, thanks.

“Oh, please,” another girl toward the front of the room snorts. She tucks a short curl behind her ear and says, “What about the Winchesters?”

Jensen shrugs a halfhearted concession as a few of the guys in the back groan again. He's not here to argue the merits of good-looking CW actors, but he's not above indulging in the conversation for a second if it puts a few of these terrified girls at ease. “If you're into ruggedly handsome instead of polished pretty boys, I would have to agree. What's your name?”

“Tina.”

“Are you kidding me with this?” the kid in the back, the one with the gigantic Bose headphones around his neck, bursts out impatiently. Off of Jensen's raised eyebrow, he says, “I'm Brian and I'm a screenwriter. The supernatural puts asses in seats, so I'm here to steal some opinions and make millions of dollars.”

Classy. “Fair enough,” Jensen concedes, pointing to another guy mid-way back. “You?”

The guy fumbles a little with the pencil he's been tapping against his desk. Why he has a pencil and a laptop, Jensen doesn't really care to know right now. “I'm Gavin. Um, I like the metaphors, ya know? Passion and love and eternal life and animal instinct.”

“So,” Jensen smiles knowingly. “Buffy fan?”

Gavin blushes and nods, slinking further into his seat. 

Jensen surveys the rest of the class, choosing his next victim. He doesn't select the guy in the back of the room because he's too gigantic for his desk or because his eyes are dancing with utter amusement at every person who opens their mouth. It's not because of the dimples, either. He's a student so it would be wrong to notice him for any of those reasons, or for the way his fingers peek out from the sleeves of his hooded school sweatshirt when he brushes his dark hair from his forehead.

It's because he's the only one in the room without a tablet or laptop or notebook. He obviously has no intention of taking a single note and that intrigues Jensen.

“What's your story?” 

Instead of perking up, the guy slumps back in his seat and smirks. “Me?” 

Jensen just nods. 

“Well, I'm Jared, and … I don't have a story,” he says, head shaking lazily. “I just heard the professor was hot.”

“You heard right,” Kaitlyn interjects in a low voice.

It is going to be a long semester. 

Clearing his throat, Jensen grabs his iPad and says, “Alright, so I trust everyone has a copy of the syllabus. Let's take a look at that.”

*-*-*

Danneel's office is utilitarian at best. She has a desk and a couple of chairs, along with a few posters of revolutionary women hanging on the walls. Her theory is that she shows up long enough to teach her Women's Studies courses; she doesn't ever want to be one of those professors who lives in her office. Jensen thinks she's just too lazy to decorate, but it's not worth fighting about.

He flings the office door open at nine thirty and throws himself into one of the chairs. “Remind me again why flirting with a hot student in my class is not okay,” he demands.

Without looking up from her filing cabinet, Danneel says, “Because you'll get fired for being inappropriate and will therefore be blacklisted at every other university or private college in the country. You'll then have to choose between selling your so-sweet-but-far-too-old-to-be-lucrative ass on the street to support your burgeoning coke habit or sleeping in your car until you starve to death.”

Jensen lifts a hand to point in her direction without breaking his staring contest with the ceiling. “This is why you're my best friend.”

Danneel checks the filing cabinet with her hip and tosses a folder onto the desk. “I'm your best friend because everyone else is intimidated by your beauty, dear.” When Jensen raises his head, she shoots him a cheeky grin. “So who's the seductress?”

“His name is Jared.” With a sigh, Jensen finally hitches himself upright in the chair. “He's very tall. And dimply.”

Leaning a hip against her chair, Danneel says, “You've had tall students before.”

“Yes, I have.”

“And I'm guessing you've had a few with dimples, too.”

“Also true.” Off of her raised eyebrow, Jensen asks, “Are you trying to make a point? Because I can't tell.”

“The point is that I want a glass of wine and a bath. So if we're done talking about boys and braiding our hair, I would like to get out of here.”

Jensen groans as he stands. “Alright, fine.”

They walk toward the faculty parking lot in relative silence, until Jensen notices movement near his car. 

“Shit.”

“What?” Danneel asks, grabbing his arm again. 

Jensen stops short and pulls her back. “That's him,” he says from the corner of his mouth. “The guy from my class, that's him by my car, with the dimples.”

“I love your car's dimples.”

“You are such an asshole.”

Laughing, Danneel drapes a hand over Jensen's neck and pulls him into a hug. “You love me.” When she steps back, she asks, “Are we still on for lunch tomorrow?”

With a sigh, Jensen says, “I suppose.”

She goes in for another hug and whispers, “Fired. Homeless. Ten dollar hand jobs in a dirty alley,” against his ear and then giggles as she walks away.

“I hope you trip,” Jensen calls out before turning toward his own vehicle with a sense of dread in his stomach. 

This is stupid. Jensen is in the position of power here. Being nervous to talk to a student is just silly.

“Hey, so I'm not a stalker or anything,” Jared starts before Jensen can greet him. “I just wanted to apologize for what I said in class. That was totally out of line.”

“So you didn't take my class because you heard I was hot?” They're the kind of words he wishes he could take back immediately, but Jared smiles and it's hard to regret it.

“No. I learned that when you walked into the room, but I still shouldn't have said it.” He looks down at his sneakers and then tosses his hair out of his eyes when he raises his head again. “At least not in the classroom.”

Jensen shakes his head. “It's fine. I'm flattered.”

What are these words coming out of his mouth? This is not nipping anything in the bud.

“Flattered enough to get a drink with me?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Jared chuckles, sounding unsure for the first time. “That was direct. I respect that.”

“I'm sorry, it's just that I don't socialize with my students.”

With a knowing glint in his eye, Jared asks, “And why is that, professor?”

“Because I don't want to be a prostitute.”

It's not at all what he meant to say, but Jensen can't exactly take it back; it's not untrue. And it does the trick, because Jared takes a step back and holds a hand out awkwardly. 

“Alright, for the record, I was offering to buy you a beer, not pay you to blow me.”

“No, I know. I just. That's not. I should go.”

He's in the car and backing out of his parking space before he can talk himself out of it. By the time he glances into the rear view mirror, Jared is gone.

*-*-*

Four and a half years ago, when Jensen and Danneel hired in at the college together, Misha invited them for drinks to celebrate surviving the first week of the semester. Once in a while, someone else will join them, but the only constants are the three of them. Jensen likes it that way just fine.

“Can we get another round here?” Misha asks the waitress as she delivers the round Danneel just ordered.

The waitress looks a little put out, but she forces her smile into place before slipping away from the table to wade through the growing crowd. 

Once they've all wrapped their hands around their first beers of the night, Misha winks and says, “To week one.”

“Wait!”

Jensen groans as, in his haste to ensure they don't start without him, Chad bumps into the table hard enough to rock everything on the top. “Who invited you?”

Chad flips him off and produces the shot glass he apparently bought himself at the bar before joining them. “To week one.” They all raise their glasses and Chad throws his shot back. “Man, I needed that.”

Misha nods in amusement while Danneel's eyes drift with disinterest around the bar. Jensen can only down half of his beer in one swallow and hope that enough alcohol will make Chad easier to digest tonight. 

“Hey,” Danneel suddenly says, her eyes growing wide and excited as she reaches across the table to grab Jensen's arm. “Isn't that tall, hot, and dimply from your vampire class?”

Yes, it is. In a sky blue button down and a pair of dark jeans, Jared is leaning into a girl at the bar, flashing obscene dimples and oozing charm that Jensen can taste from across the room. “Ugh,” he responds eloquently.

“Man, he's even hotter in crappy bar lighting than he was under that street lamp the other night,” Danneel teases.

“I hate you so much.”

The problem is that Jared _is_ hotter in crappy bar lighting. No, the problem is that Jared is hot in any lighting that Jensen has seen him in so far. No, the problem is that Jared is a student and Jensen finds him distractingly good looking in any lighting, from any angle, in any situation.

“Who is this?” Chad asks, winking at the waitress when she delivers the next round a few minutes later.

There are approximately thirty-two members of the faculty and staff with whom Jensen has no interest in sharing his attraction to Jared. Without even working for the school, Chad is at the top of that list.

“The kid in Jensen's seven o'clock pop culture class that he wants to bone,” Misha answers for him. 

Catching his bottom lip between his teeth, Chad considers Jared with a critical eye and then smiles lasciviously. “I'd risk it.”

Jensen closes his eyes and takes another drink, waiting for the nausea to pass, which is why he misses Jared's approach and bounces in surprise when he hears Jared say, “Hey, Professor,” over his shoulder.

“Hey, Jared,” he greets tightly, feeling all eyes at the table on him.

Jared opens his mouth to speak, but it's Chad's voice that says, “Hi, Jared,” in that weird tone he uses to pick up retail clerks at the mall. It kind of sucks that Jensen knows that tone of voice, come to think of it.

Without breaking stride, Jared's voice is silky smooth as he extends a hand toward Chad. “Hi there.”

“Chad.” 

“Nice to meet you, Chad.”

What is even happening? Even Danneel and Misha look a little startled.

“You should have a seat, Jared.” There are no chairs left at their little table. “Join us.”

“Well, I would love to, but the professor doesn't socialize with students.” 

Dammit, even the knowing smirk he shoots Jensen's direction is adorable. 

“So pull up a chair and socialize with me. We'll ignore Jensen together.” Chad's laugh is kind of hysterical and high-pitched, which is even more strange and embarrassing than normal when viewed through the eyes of an outsider.

“Chad,” Misha starts.

“Ya know what, Chad,” Jared interrupts, leaning closer to the table and brushing against Jensen's arm. “Why don't we go find a seat at the bar instead? That way it's not awkward for Jensen.” He really shouldn't be allowed to say Jensen's first name. And the way he raises his eyebrows, as though he's found the most perfect solution, is unsettling to say the least.

Chad grabs his beer and follows Jared like a dutiful puppy, leaving three stunned expressions in his wake.

“What the fuck just happened?” Misha finally asks.

Jensen can't find his voice, but Danneel answers for both of them. “I have no fucking clue.”

*-*-*

The way Jared and Chad left the bar with their arms around each other, heads bent close in conversation, the other night replays in Jensen's mind a thousand times over the weekend. For fuck's sake, Chad is straight. At least, Jensen thinks he's straight. He's never actually cared enough about Chad's sex life to ask, but most of the people he uses those embarrassing pick-up lines on are women.

At least he now knows that Jared is just another slutty college kid, making terrible life choices and hooking up with randoms he will later regret. That makes it easier for Jensen to shake the unbidden dirty thoughts that creep up at inopportune moments, most notably while he's in the middle of discussing the early staples of vampire mythology in Monday night's class. Every time Jared looks up through that shaggy hair and runs his tongue along his lower lip, Jensen tells himself that tongue has probably touched Chad in places his bathing suit covers and he's able to charge on with the lecture.

He's congratulating himself on making it through while packing his messenger bag when there's a knock on his office door. Of course, it's Jared leaning against the doorjamb with his hands casually tucked into his pockets when Jensen looks up.

“I'm not going to apologize for leaving the bar with your friend the other night,” is his opening line.

“I don't remember asking you to,” Jensen counters, returning his attention to the important things on his desk, like pencils he's never even bothered sharpening. 

Smirking, Jared shifts his weight comfortably. “Chad's a nice guy, ya know? Not as nice as I'm sure you would have been, but sweet.”

“Alright, ya know what,” Jensen finally breaks, looking up from his bag to level Jared with an unappreciative glare. “There is no one on Earth I want to know less about sexually than Chad.”

With a tiny shrug, Jared's lips slide into a full-blown smile. “Could have been you is all I'm saying.”

Jensen loops the bag over his head and across his body while rolling his eyes. “Couldn't,” he corrects, grabbing his keys from the drawer. “And stop wearing those ridiculous hoodies.”

Nobody wears a sweatshirt from the school they attend to every class. It's weird and dorky and Jared should stop. 

“Pretty sure you cannot tell me what to wear to class,” Jared counters, refusing to budge when Jensen gets to the door.

Jensen keeps his eyes fixed on Jared's sneakers. “I can if it's distracting to the learning environment,” he mumbles.

Jared laughs and it sends a jolt down Jensen's spine that he cannot acknowledge. “It's a sweatshirt.”

“That shows off your collarbone,” Jensen insists, looking up to find that he and Jared are far too close for anyone's good.

Jared's voice pitches low when he asks, “You find my collarbone distracting, Professor?”

“Shut up,” Jensen snaps. “I have to go.”

Leaning in, Jared whispers, “I think yours is distracting, too.”

Jensen shoulders past and breathes deeply the stale air of the hallway. _He took Chad home. He took Chad home. He took Chad home._ He plays it over in his head all the way to Danneel's office.

It doesn't help.

*-*-*

“I cannot do this anymore!”

Misha looks up from the bean sprout salad he's dressing and cocks his head at Jensen's sudden outburst. “Lunch?”

“No, not lunch. Jared.”

“You're doing Jared?”

“No! That's why I need to kick him out of my class.”

Misha looks confused. “Um, what?”

“He's appallingly determined to seduce me.”

It's not supposed to be funny but the ladies at the table next to them look over when Misha bursts out laughing. Even when he collects himself, he's still chuckling. “Oh, come on. He can't possibly be the first student who's ever flirted with you a little.”

No. He's just the only one who's made Jensen wish he could flirt back. 

Miserably, he crosses his arms over his chest and leans back in his chair. “Can we let the record show that I am trying to do the right thing here and my boss's personal assistant is refusing to take my concerns seriously.”

“Jensen,” Misha argues, dropping his fork to his plate. He's still laughing. “Man, it's not like you're powerless to stop anything from happening. He's a good-looking guy who is clearly interested. It was bound to happen at some point. That doesn't mean you have to drop to your knees for him. Just keep it in your pants and you'll be fine. It's not that hard.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “You're clearly not remembering Jared correctly.”

When Misha laughs again, Jensen turns his attention to his sandwich. It's hard to swallow around the growing lump in his throat, though. He's never even worried about something like this and now he's dreading Mondays and Wednesdays on a regular basis. No matter how easy Misha makes it sound, Jensen has a feeling it's all going to end very badly.

*-*-*

“Alright, so we've spent three weeks talking about the history of vampires in literature and film, but that's not why you guys signed up for this course, right? So today we're going to move forward, into the thing that sets each supernatural saga apart: Mythology.” He's used to the blank faces staring back at him to this point, so Jensen just powers through. “Origin stories. Rules. Comparisons and contrasts. I'll give you one to kick us off. Vampires cannot walk into the sunlight because it causes them to catch fire and burn to ash.”

“Unless you're a Twilight vamp, in which case you sparkle,” Stella counters.

Jensen starts to nod when he hears a snort from the back of the room. “Something wrong, Jared?”

He doesn't bother sitting up in his chair. “Nope. I'm good.”

“You got a problem with vampire glitter?” Jensen questions because now he's just irrationally pissed off at Jared's smug little grin.

Finally, Jared rises to the challenge, posture straightening. “Do I have a problem with an entire group of notoriously predatory killers being anesthetized for teenybopper consumption until they resemble Vegas showgirls with broken hearts of gold?” He gives a shrug. “Yeah, I guess I find it a little disheartening.”

“It's an interesting point,” Jensen concedes, tapping a finger against his lectern. “Though I think it's important to remember that those teenyboppers bring an unparalleled disposable income to the table, so that makes them as viable a market as any that Stoker tapped into in his day, or even Polidori before him.”

He'd be lying if he said that Jared's eye roll isn't a little satisfying. “Granted, but it used to be something of a social commentary, right? I mean, you talked just last week about how Stoker's stories were popular because they subverted Victorian ideology. It could be argued that their appeal lies primarily in the fluidity of their sexuality and its opposition to the social norms throughout literature. To create an entire mythology around abstinence is a bastardization of the genre.”

Jensen glances around the room, giving the other students an option to speak, but none of them look ready to jump in at the moment. They're probably as shocked as Jensen is that Jared is actually speaking in more than one full sentence at a time.

“Not to mention the fact that most authors and showrunners worth their salt are using the medium as a metaphor for life lessons instead of titillation, and the lessons they're teaching are absolute shit.”

“And why is that?” Jensen asks, amused at the passion that Jared is suddenly showing. The fact that he remembers things they've talked about without having taken a single note is kind of impressive, but he's not ready to concede that just yet.

“Think about it,” Jared says, his large hands getting into the argument in a really distracting way. “In order to create the forbidden love angle, the lines between good and evil have to be blurred until they are non-existent. For example, the vampire is created in evil damnation, but he fights his nature in the name of true love? Really? Is that ever actually going to happen?” He turns toward Stella and smirks. “If a guy is a dick, he's still going to be a dick after he fucks you. Love and pussy do nothing to change that, no matter what Stephanie Meyer and Kevin Williamson try to tell you.”

“Alright,” Jensen interrupts when it looks like Stella might cry. 

“He's right,” Brian interjects. “I mean, how many times have we seen the supposed heroine of a piece stupidly pulling her shirt down to expose her throat to the vampire in a film, determined to show that she trusts he won't hurt her. In essence, she's stripping her pants off and spreading her legs while telling him that she trusts he won't fuck her. I'm with Jared. It's horseshit.”

Gavin gets into the discussion with a disgusted huff by saying, “And just like in real life, it's not about the actions of the heroine, it's about the self-control of the anti-hero.”

“To keep in line with the mythology discussion, though,” Kaitlyn says, clearly uncomfortable with the turn the conversation is taking, “This entire theory is predicated on the idea that all vampires are evil. In modern young adult entertainment, you start with the human element and vampirism is something inflicted on them, not an evil borne in them.”

“Which goes back to the anesthetization I was talking about in the first place,” Jared concludes, as though Katilyn has just proven his point for him. “It's asserting the theory that base evil doesn't exist in our world, that nothing is black and white and there is nothing inherently bad. It's diluting thousands of years of good versus evil, metaphorically wiping out the existence of any hard absolutes.”

“Evil vampires and good humans is so cut and dry, though,” Tina spins in her chair to glare at Jared. “In a world where things are far less black and white than they used to be, it doesn't make sense to have such two-dimensional characters.”

The conversation continues to escalate, Rick and his girlfriend, Lucy, jumping into the fray as well, and Jensen risks a glance back at Jared to find Jared staring back with a self-satisfied look on his face. When he winks, Jensen realizes that Jared is fucking with all of them, riling them up for the mere entertainment of it. 

He wants to be pissed off, but this is the most engaged everyone has been since they started meeting together at the beginning of the semester.

*-*-*

After class on Wednesday night, Jensen finds a note from Danneel on his office door. _My class was annoying me, so I told them to go home early. Fuck everyone._ They were supposed to grab a drink at some restaurant Danneel loves and Jensen hates, so he decides to treat himself to a beer at his favorite sports bar instead.

The first thing he sees when he walks in the door is Jared at a table toward the back, nursing a long neck and watching a basketball game on the flat screen. Of course.

He heads over before he realizes what he's doing. “You a big fan?”

“Hey, Jensen,” Jared says, surprise evident in his eyes. “Um, yeah. Guess you can take the boy out of Texas, ya know?”

“I do know. Very well actually.”

Jared's eyes widen further. “No way.”

Jensen nods. “My hand to God.” Jared leans back in his chair and rolls his eyes. “Or whoever.”

He stands there just long enough for the moment to feel awkward before Jared looks up at him. “So, not to push my luck or anything, but you're welcome to sit.” His smile is warm when Jensen actually does. “And let me buy you a beer?”

Shrugging out of his jacket, Jensen finally concedes. “Yeah, okay.”

Jensen's brain is screaming that this is a terrible idea, but it's been a long day and he doesn't feel like fighting the attraction right now. It's not like he's going to let it go too far. 

They drink and watch the game without much more than empty basketball conversation for a while, until Jared turns suddenly. “You're not like any professor I've ever had.”

“How so?”

“I don't know, man. It's like you let things stay interesting, ya know? Let us talk about whatever and don't pretend like your course is the most important thing in the world.”

The second beer is loosening him up just enough and Jensen allows himself to smile at the compliment. “Well, we're spending four hours a week talking about fictional monsters, so.”

“You'd be surprised how many blowhards forget that.”

“You taken a lot of vampire courses, Jared?” 

Jared takes the teasing for what it is and smiles warm and sweet. “I meant in general, smart ass.”

“Uh huh,” Jensen nods, pushing his empty toward the center of the table. “Alright, so thank you for the beer, but it's getting late.”

“It's barely eleven.”

It's less about the hour and more about the easy, happy feeling settling in Jensen's gut and rolling around like smooth whiskey. This cannot happen. 

“Alright,” Jared fills in when Jensen says nothing. “Well, I would just like the record to show that we were totally capable of hanging out for more than an hour without giving in to anything inappropriate.”

He does have a point. “Duly noted,” he says with a nod and a smile. “Though we should also let the record show that hanging out with your prof, watching a basketball game instead of spending your evening with horny co-eds your own age and getting laid is kind of lame.”

Jared really needs to stop laughing. “Duly noted.”

*-*-*

They're inching on Spring break, but they're not nearly close enough when Jensen agrees to having drinks with Danneel and Misha on a Saturday night in late February.

“Oh my god, I want to get so drunk and naked tonight!” Danneel declares as she slams the door of her car in the parking lot.

“Long week?” Misha asks, catching up with them and pocketing his keys as he and Jensen flank Danneel on the way to the door. 

Danneel shakes her hair and adjusts her low-cut shirt as Jensen holds the door open for her. “Look, I love developing the minds of young feminists, but sometimes a girl wants to stop talking about the power of the vagina and just experiment with it for a few hours.”

Jensen stares at her for a beat. “I honestly do not understand the words that are coming out of your mouth right now.”

“Just find a table,” Misha says with a laugh. “I'll grab first round.”

They position themselves at a small table in the middle of the room, prime real estate to scope out the crowd, which does nothing for Danneel apparently.

“What is that face?” Jensen asks as she scrunches her nose and pouts.

“There is nobody hot here at all.”

“There's a few guys in a booth back there,” Jensen nods over his shoulder to a pair of out-of-place business men looking far too eager for the scantily dressed clientele.

“Ew. That one looks like Dr. Bryant.” 

Dr. Bryant is the seventy-year-old head of the research lab. At faculty dinners, when he's had a few too many, he likes to tell Danneel that he has children older than her and that he's more than willing to her turn her over his knee like he used to do with them. 

Fortunately, Misha returns with beers for everyone before Jensen has enough time to contemplate that mental image any further. “Alright, so moral conundrum for you. Your forbidden plaything versus your arch nemesis. Which do you choose?”

“Huh?”

“Jared's up at the bar, getting mauled by Chad and looking miserable.”

“What the hell is up with that?” Danneel asks, swinging around in her chair to face the table again. “Every time I ask Chad about it, he just kind of giggles and refuses to talk about it. It's so fucking creepy.”

To be honest, Jensen put it out of his head the day he told Jared he didn't want to think about it. His selective memory is impressively strong if he does say so himself. 

“You should go save him,” Misha suggests, nudging Jensen with an elbow. 

“Um, why?”

“Leverage. You save him from that horror and you don't owe him anything anymore.”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “What do I owe him for now?”

“Just go,” Danneel orders abruptly, her eyes fixed across the room. “You're too pretty. It's scaring away the guys I might want to fuck tonight.”

Rolling his eyes, Jensen slides off of his stool and chases away the errant thought that his hair might need to be fixed. It doesn't matter.

When Jensen reaches the bar, the horror of watching Chad slide a hand over Jared's chest washes over him. He swallows back the desire to turn away and steps forward. “Hey, Chad,” he greets, fingers digging into Chad's shoulder until he glances back with a dopey, drunk grin on his face.

“Hey, Jensen! Look, Jared, Jensen is here!”

“I see,” Jared smiles tightly. “It's so good to see you, Jensen.”

With an exaggerated nod, Jensen gives Chad another squeeze and says, “Yeah, I was glad to see you over here. There's, uh, something I've been wanting to talk to you about.”

“Excuse me, Jensen, do you mind?” Chad asks, stumbling forward to hook an arm around Jared's shoulder. “We're in the middle of something here.”

Jared looks as disgusted as Jensen feels, but maybe he hides it a little better. “Ya know what, Chad, it's really good to see you again, but I think I better talk to Jensen. He doesn't seek me out unless it's really important.”

“Bullshit,” Chad slurs, smile slipping from his face as he narrows his eyes at Jensen. “He won't even let you fuck him.”

“And I just threw up in my mouth a little bit,” Jensen mutters. If only he were kidding. “Alright, Jared, shall we?” 

“Lead the way,” Jared grunts, comically untangling himself from Chad's grip and barely managing to catch the guy before he trips over a bar stool. He motions to the bartender to watch out for Chad and then follows Jensen toward the door. “Thank you so much,” he says when they step outside.

Now that it's just the two of them, Jensen really wishes he would have sent Misha to save Jared. So he rambles. “I don't even know what's up with him. I mean, he's usually a little too much, but that was more over the top than I've seen him in awhile. I mean, there was that one time we went skiing in the U.P., when he did nine consecutive Jager Bombs and tried to seduce a snowman, but even then, I'm pretty sure he was more suave.”

“Well, alcohol does weird things to some people,” Jared says, chuckling awkwardly as he walks along side Jensen.

He didn't specifically bring Jared out here to take a walk, but he doesn't know what else to do so moving his feet is going to be good enough for now. “So, this is a shitty way to spend your Saturday night, huh?”

“Hanging out with you?” Jared asks, bumping Jensen with an elbow. “Yeah, this blows.”

“It does. I mean, why hook up when you can walk around aimlessly and avoid drunken grabby hands?” He laughs a little and tilts his head. “Of course, my other option was to sit around and watch Danneel and Misha try to leave with other people, so maybe we're even.”

“You really know how to make a guy feel awesome.”

“You know what I mean.”

“I do, and I'm trying to come to terms with being your obvious last choice.”

He's joking. Jensen shouldn't feel bad. Guilt has to be the only reason he stops short and lets the next words fall out of his mouth. “Okay, well you can stand out here and feel bad for yourself or you can come up and watch some terrible Saturday night television with me.”

Jared looks around and lets his gaze settle on the modest house in front of them. “This is your place?” Off of Jensen's nod, he says, “Are you sure? I mean, that's some pretty serious socializing?”

“What else are we going to do?” 

Oh, this is such a mistake.

“You know that when you invite me up to watch television, I hear a completely different invitation, right?” He flashes his dimples; Jensen is fairly certain it is a calculated move.

“Are you saying that, after all of that flirting, you're going to back out at the front door?”

Well, that came out wrong.

“Not even for a second,” Jared answers before Jensen can take it back. “I'm just warning you that shit is going down if I go up there with you.”

It would be easier to turn him down if Jared would just stop talking. And smiling. And being so goddamn hot. He doesn't say anything else as he turns and makes his way up the walk to the front door. “You comin' or what?” he asks over his shoulder. He gives Jensen one more skeptical look, one more chance to back out, and now it's just a challenge. “Get your ass in here.”

With a predatory smile, Jared crowds in behind Jensen and kicks the front door shut. “Nice place,” he compliments without bothering to look at anything but Jensen.

“Thanks. Is there any point in giving you the tour or should I just show you to the bedroom?”

Jared growls against Jensen's ear and nips at his jaw. “I don't care where.”

“Alright, hold on,” Jensen laughs, trying his best to create some space, to think about what is about to happen. He needs to figure out how he went from determined never to let this happen to throwing all caution to the wind and _making_ it happen. He hasn't even had anything to drink yet.

Jared stares at him, eyes dark with a hunger that shoots straight to Jensen's cock. He's no stranger to hot one-night stands, but this is burning him up from the inside.

“I can't make the first move,” Jensen blurts, as though it will somehow soothe his conscious.

With a shrug, Jared says, “Fair enough,” and rips his shirt over his head. While Jensen is still transfixed on the sculpted planes of his chest and stomach, Jared flicks the button on his jeans and shoves them to the floor, too.

Miles of perfect muscles everywhere – his arms and shoulders and hips and thighs – and all Jensen can think to say is, “You went commando?”

Jared doesn't answer with words, instead stalking toward Jensen and backing him up to the wall outside the living room. “This enough? Or do I need to be more forward to make this okay for you?” He dips his head and licks at the corner of Jensen's jaw while working the clasp on his belt with one hand.

“Upstairs,” Jensen pants with all the coherency he has left. “Bedroom.”

Being over six feet tall and nearly two hundred pounds kind of limits the amount of times Jensen has been manhandled in the bedroom during his adult life. When Jared pushes him up the stairs and practically dumps him onto the bed, though, he thinks maybe he's been missing out by dating guys that are smaller than him on a regular basis.

Jared's hands are quick, ripping Jensen's belt through the loops and tugging his jeans to the floor before Jensen manages to start on his shirt. He nearly rips the buttons off when Jared sinks to the ground and wraps his lips around Jensen's dick, hardening quickly under his boxers.

“You don't waste any time, do ya?” Jensen asks with a nervous chuckle, overwhelmed and wanting and nervous like he hasn't been in awhile. Sure, Jared is young and eager, but he's also more commanding than Jensen is used to. 

Glancing up through dark lashes, Jared grins wickedly and pulls at the thin fabric of Jensen's underwear with his teeth. When he lets go, he winks. Fucking winks. “You want me to slow down?” He presses his open lips to the fabric again and Jensen can feel the wet tip of Jared's tongue. “Let you think about how bad and wrong this is? How dirty you are, fucking your student in your own bed, Professor?”

It should turn him off completely, but the way Jared growls the word sends a shot of adrenaline straight to Jensen's dick. “Fuck you,” he grunts, forcing himself to sit and grab Jared's head in both hands. “Come here.”

Without hesitation, Jared leans forward, allowing Jensen to plunder his mouth with deep sweeps of his tongue that bring guttural moans from his chest. Jensen's thighs fall open and Jared covers him, grinding his bare cock down against Jensen's through the thin barrier still separating them. 

“Do you trust me?” Jared mumbles against his mouth.

It's not the kind of question you ask on a first date. This isn't even a first date. The smart answer is no, so of course, Jensen says, “Yes.”

Jared's laugh is predatory and evil as he sits back and tucks his fingers into the waistband of Jensen's boxers. He peels them back slowly, tongue traveling the length of his lips as he watches Jensen's cock revealed, dark and curving toward his belly. “Oh, yeah,” he breathes with a low moan of approval. “Gonna have some fun with this.” He swipes his thumb over the head and chuckles.

Before Jensen can say or do anything, his face is buried in the mattress, Jared's fingers digging into his hips, pulling his ass into the air. He flinches at the pain as he rises to his elbows and knees and then it's gone, followed by the soft hair of Jared's thighs bracketing Jensen's sides. 

With one hand on the back of Jensen's neck, he presses him back to the bed. It feels strange, knees curled under his body and elbows tucked in tight to his chest while Jared straddles his back, the heavy weight of his cock resting against Jensen's spine. When Jared's huge hand circles Jensen's throat and pulls his head back, Jensen stops worrying about how it probably looks.

Jared slides his thumb under Jensen's chin to angle his face upward and Jensen risks opening his eyes. Straddling Jensen and still towering over him, Jared bends at his waist to grab Jensen's bottom lip between his teeth. 

Into his mouth, Jared asks, “Do you trust me now?”

Jensen grits his teeth and tries to swallow against Jared's grip. “Ground rules,” he manages to say, though the words are strained.

Jared sits back immediately, ass on the small of Jensen's back, hands at his sides. “Right. Sorry. Got a little caught up.”

Air burns at Jensen's throat when he clears it. “Just don't leave any visible bruises.”

“That's it?” Jared smirks, sliding forward. 

Jensen groans at the hot slide of Jared's cock along his back. “Yeah.” He should probably also drop the ax on any references to the word professor, but he doesn't.

This time, Jared laughs and barely brushes his fingers over Jensen's shoulder, causing him to shiver. “Sorry. Forgot how delicate and pale you are.” 

Jensen bucks his ass, jostling Jared until they both laugh. “That's strike two, asshole,” he warns. 

Rising to his knees again, Jared grips the globes of Jensen's ass in his hands and squeezes before bending forward to press a kiss into the back of his neck. “Why don't you get that pretty ass up in the air for me. Lemme make it up to you.”

The air seizes in Jensen's chest, his body moving independently from his brain. The kid who sits in the back of his class, dressed in a stupid hoodie and smiling like a dope, is ordering Jensen around his own bedroom and Jensen is already proving that he'll do whatever Jared says. It should be repulsive or, at the very least, humiliating. Instead, Jensen waits until Jared crawls off of him and then pushes up on his knees and lowers his head to the bed. Face down, ass up, and loving it.

Jared doesn't waste time spreading Jensen's cheeks and spitting against Jensen's hole. He kneads at Jensen's ass and spreads the spit in circles with his tongue, growling like a jungle cat with a fresh kill. 

When his tongue presses in, Jensen's knees give out, but if Jared minds, he doesn't say anything. He continues in earnest, nose nudging against Jensen's crack as his seals his mouth over the hole and his tongue fucks into Jensen relentlessly.

Jensen can feel the heat in his cheeks, his body sparking with each thrust when his hips catching the rhythm Jared is setting. The sheets against his dick are ragged and painful, but Jensen couldn't move a hand between his body and the bed right now if he tried, everything liquified by the fire of Jared's mouth on him. The man eats ass like it's a four-course meal; Jensen's never felt anything like it.

He's babbling and begging and not paying attention to a single word coming out of his mouth. Once in awhile, Jared responds with a grunt of his own, and Jensen wishes for a second that he could muster the strength to look over his shoulder. Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and cries out for more.

The cold air hits immediately when Jared pulls back, gripping Jensen's thigh and smacking hard against his ass. “Get up,” he orders, tugging at Jensen's leg as though Jensen has some sort of control over his limbs right now. “C'mon.”

By some freak miracle, Jensen makes his way to his hands and knees, his dick immediately throbbing after being trapped against the bed for too long. He reaches for it and squeezes the base, gasping when Jared puts a hand in front of his face. 

He's expecting it to wrap around his throat. Instead, Jared says, “Suck 'em,” in a voice that is nearly possessed while he presses two fingers against Jensen's tongue. Jensen hears him spit again and then nearly chokes when he feels the wet palm wrap around his dick.

Too soon, Jared pulls his fingers out of Jensen's mouth and his hand away from Jensen's dick. Jensen whimpers and Jared lets out a soft laugh that would sound derisive in any other situation. It might in this one, but Jensen's brain is about a step past blown so it's hard to tell.

With two sharp smacks to Jensen's ass, Jared's middle finger slips into his hole and Jensen feels himself pushing back onto it without encouragement. 

“Fuck, look at you,” Jared says, something akin to awe in his voice. “Takin' my finger like you were made for it. You like that, huh?” Jensen grunts. “Yeah, you love it. You want another? Wanna fuck yourself on two?”

“Lube first,” he manages, proud of himself for putting that much of a sentence together while nodding toward the table beside his bed.

It's all emptiness when Jared pulls his fingers back and leans over to grab supplies from the table. He produces a bottle and a handful of condoms with a wicked smile. “You got enough here to go all night.”

Jensen groans and reaches for a pillow. “I'd be happy with once right about now,” he says, putting just enough sway in his hips to get Jared's attention back to where it should be.

Jared laughs, his hand coming down again with a loud slap. “So impatient.” Jensen hears the snick of the lube lid and then feels the cool drizzle of it against his hole. Jared rubs it in, slipping the tip of his thumb inside and chuckling again when Jensen instantly reacts. “Shit, you really love havin' your hole filled up, don't you?” 

“Yeah,” Jensen agrees. He figures Jared has enough confidence; he doesn't need to hear Jensen declare just how much he loves getting fucked.

Jared pushes two and then three fingers in, slowly slipping them in and out as his other hand roams over Jensen's back and ass. When Jensen tries to speed things up, Jared pulls back and then laughs when Jensen growls in frustration.

“C'mon, Jared, just fuck me,” Jensen finally says when Jared has driven him right to the edge. “Please.”

“Nah,” Jared responds and, instead of complying, he leans forward and wraps an arm around Jensen's chest, hauling him back until they're both seated. The new angle causes Jensen to shout in surprise. “Wanna watch you come like this first. Then I'll fuck you.”

In this position, Jensen can feel Jared's dick nudging his tightening balls every time Jensen rises and sinks back onto Jared's fingers. When Jared slides his hand down Jensen's chest and wraps his cock in a firm fist to stroke it hard, Jensen barely has time to grunt a curse before he's coming against Jared's hand and his own chest.

“That's it,” Jared mumbles against his ear, sucking the lobe between his lips and letting it go with a pop before he whispers, “Hottest fuckin' thing I've ever seen,” against Jensen's neck. “Can't wait to feel you ride my cock.”

Jensen whimpers at the thought. “Gimme a minute.”

With a laugh, Jared guides Jensen down to the bed and rolls him onto his back, flopping down next to him and giving his own cock a few lazy tugs. “Since I'm a nice guy, I might give you two. Professor.”

*-*-*

So it’s been awhile since Jensen invited anyone back to his place for any reason, but it’s been even longer since someone slept in his bed with him. It’s not exactly awkward to wake up and find Jared dead to the world at his side, but it does mean that they’re going to have to be more careful sneaking him out than they would have been at three o’clock this morning.

Of course, Jensen couldn’t move his legs at three this morning, so he can’t exactly blame Jared, either.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jensen greets, setting a steaming mug of coffee on the table beside Jared. He looks a little pale in the bright lights of morning. Jensen’s probably not all that well-rested, either. When a grunt is all he gets in response, Jensen smacks Jared’s thigh through the sheets and says, “C’mon, you gotta get up. I’ve got places to be this morning.”

He heads over to his dresser to pick up his wallet and stuff it into the back of his jeans while Jared throws the blankets over his head in a sign of defiance. “Dude, come on. It’s almost nine. I gotta head into the office for a few hours. Get the lead out. I’ll take you back to the bar to get your car.”

Not for the first time, Jensen is glad he lives close enough to walk to the bar so his vehicle is still here when he needs it this morning.

He figures Jared’s coffee will be cold by the time he’s ready to drink it, so Jensen spends the next twenty minutes brewing a fresh pot, toasting a few bagels, and making a list of all the things he needs to get done today. By the time he heads back up the stairs, he’s ready to grab his keys and walk out the door. 

“You about ready, man?” he calls, rapping his knuckles against the bathroom door. It’s eerily quiet in there – no running water, no sounds of movement at all. “Jared? Everything okay?” Another beat with no response. “Jared?” 

At the faintest hint of a low whimper, Jensen grabs the doorknob and barges into the bathroom, only to find Jared in a heap on the floor, propped against the side of the tub. 

“What the fuck, man?” Jensen shouts, his heart leaping into his throat.

Lazily, Jared’s head lulls in Jensen’s direction. “I thought I could make it but I fell asleep.”

“You passed out,” Jensen corrects.

“Because I fell asleep. Should have left before.”

“Okay, you’re not making any sense,” Jensen grunts as he grabs Jared under his armpits and begins to try to maneuver him around the tiny bathroom. “Come on. Work with me, man. Let’s get you back into the bed.”

“No!” It’s the most force Jared has mustered since last night and Jensen drops him automatically from the shock of it. “I just need. Let me stay here.”

Fear turns into something even more sinister as Jensen leans against the sink and crosses his arms protectively over his chest. “Jared, what is going on? Are you sick? Fuck, are you high? Did you take something?”

The vaguest hint of Jared’s playful nature creeps into the anemic lift of his eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“You passed out on my bathroom floor!”

“I’m not,” Jared stops and shakes his head, pushing himself further into a seated position. “Not on drugs.” He squints against the light streaming in from the bedroom. “Can you close that door?”

“No.”

“Jensen, come on. I promise I will tell you everything.”

“Oh, I know you will.”

“You always this accommodating to your house guests?” Jared asks, moaning as he struggles to sit higher. “Not sick, just. The sun is bright.” 

His lips curl back from his teeth, making him look a little like a kid trying to be scary, and then Jensen freezes. With barely a sound at all, Jared’s canine teeth, his fangs, begin to grow into long, sharp points. They're elongating in front of Jensen's eyes, like something out of a movie, but it’s better than any visual or digital effect Jensen has ever seen. It's terrifying.

“Give me a chance to explain,” Jared begs in a small, cracked voice. “Just need some time in the dark to build my strength back up first.”

It feels like Jensen’s arms are moving through Jell-O as he leans over to flick the bathroom light off, only a weak nightlight providing an orange shadow from the outlet on the other wall. “There you go. Talk.”

“You really wanna be alone in the dark with a vampire?” Jared tries to tease. It’s not funny. “Did you learn nothing from what I said in class?”

Jensen raises an eyebrow. “You think I was taking notes for real life application?”

Jared just smiles and shifts against the cool floor tiles. “Eh, most of what I said was total bullshit anyway. I mean, we are practically animals, but as long as we feed regularly, we’re totally safe.”

“And you last fed when?”

“Last night.” Jared clears his throat. “I wouldn’t bite you anyway.”

Jensen watches him squirm around, far too large for this small space, and wonders just how in the hell this became his life. “Thanks,” he says, hoisting himself further onto the counter to avoid nudging Jared with his toes. “I think.”

Jared’s eyes find Jensen’s as though all of the lights are shining. “Believe me, I wish I could,” he says as though it’s some sort of assurance. “But it’s not worth it. I like you.”

“Huh?” Pardon Jensen if his brain doesn’t keep up with Jared’s slow-moving mouth right now. Vampires. Real-life Vampires. That's pretty much all he's processing right now.

“Our saliva has this weird effect on human blood. Kind of gives you with this feeling of loyalty. It’s not actually binding, but it does make you more prone to manipulation. It can sometimes make you kind of,” he stutters like he can’t remember the word. “Clingy?”

Clingy? “Like Chad at the bar?” Hanging all over Jared as though nobody else was there, as though nobody could see them or it didn’t matter if they could. “Holy shit, you fed on Chad?”

“It was totally consensual,” Jared says, licking his lips as he sits up a little straighter. “It’s always consensual.”

“Fuckin' hell!”

“I was hungry. He was there.”

“Gross!” The images Jensen had of their night together before were unsavory. The ones he has now are downright disturbing. 

“He wasn’t that bad!” Jared argues back, his volume building just enough to make him sound normal again.

Jensen clamps his hands over his ears like a four-year-old. “I don’t wanna know!”

With a heavy sigh, Jared lays his head back against the side of the tub. “I’m just saying that you don’t have to worry about that. I wouldn’t risk that with you.”

Flattered as he is, Jensen isn’t buying it. “You don’t know that. People do weird shit when they’re hungry. I once scraped the mold off of Danneel’s leftover Thanksgiving yams because they were the only thing in my refrigerator and I hadn’t eaten all day.”

“And you’re calling me gross?”

“It wasn’t _Chad_!”

The steady command of Jared’s voice when he says, “You need to calm down,” pisses Jensen off even further.

“You calm down, fucker.”

“No, I mean it. Your heart is racing. It’s making me dizzy.”

Jared is sitting across the room – granted, he’s not _that_ far away, but still – and he can hear Jensen’s heartbeat. Weirdest one-night stand ever.

“Tough,” Jensen fires back with a fake bravado he hopes will stave Jared off for a few minutes, until Jensen can remember where he might have anything that could be construed as a vampire killing weapon. “You had your mouth, where your gigantic fangs are, on my asshole last night. I’ve earned the right to be freaked.”

Jared chuckles and holds up his hands in surrender. “Fair enough.”

Using his brain is a lost cause, so Jensen just gives up and lets words pour out of his mouth. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-two,” Jared answers without hesitation. When Jensen angles his head, Jared amends, “For the last two hundred and ninety years.”

“Jesus,” Jensen exclaims and Jared flinches hard enough for Jensen to see his jerking movement. “Are you kidding me? Of all the bullshit mythology, _that_ one is real? Jesus?”

Again, Jared jerks involuntarily. “Unholy, demonic being. And almost every incarnation of the mythology gets at least one aspect right.” 

Jensen’s eyes are starting to adjust to the darkness, at least enough to see the outline of Jared’s body on the floor. He’s sitting up now, reclined against the tub with one arm resting on his upturned knee. He’s still naked, so Jensen figures it’s for the best that the lights are off. This conversation might be weird if he could see Jared’s nudity.

“So, I'm older than you. By a lot. That gonna be a problem?” Jared finally asks when Jensen has fallen silent for too long. It's a forced joke but nothing is really funny at the moment.

“Of all the problems I have right now, your age is at the bottom of the list.”

“None of it has to be a problem, Jensen.” 

“You are fucking crazy.”

“I’m serious.” For the first time, Jared sounds like the guy who’s been trying to get his attention for weeks, velvety smooth with just a touch of a playful smile. “My friend Genevieve has a boyfriend she’s been with for years. They’re fine together.”

“Does he know she eats people?”

“He knows exactly who she is. And we don’t actually eat people. We drink what we need from the ones who consent and we leave them alive and no worse for wear when we’re finished.”

“Oh, and I’m sure accidents never happen.”

“Never to me,” Jared declares, almost as though he’s bragging for have never killed a human being.

It’s too much. Jensen just doesn’t even know what to think. Who _would_ right now? Either Jared is cracking up, going completely insane on Jensen’s bathroom floor, or he’s a motherfucking vampire. Either way, it’s not so much a win for Jensen.

“I have to go into the office,” he says, standing suddenly and raking a hand through his hair. “I’ll wait until after dark to come back, and you need to be gone.”

“Jensen, come on,” Jared pleads starting to stand when Jensen throws the bathroom door open, effectively holding him back.

His hands are shaking as he walks to the car and Jensen wonders why he feels so disappointed over the end of a fling he never should have had in the first place.

*-*-*

When Jared doesn’t show up for class on Monday night, Jensen tells himself it’s for the best.

He claps his hands to get everyone’s attention and says, “We’re going to change directions for a while. Let’s talk about werewolves.”

*-*-*

Two weeks pass and Jared is still MIA so Jensen sends an e-mail to the address listed in Jared’s file, informing him that he will fail the course if he misses another day this month. He’s not dying to see the guy or anything. He would do it for any student who missed four classes in a row. Well, he would if he noticed.

It works and Jared returns the following Monday, but that’s not better. His skin is nearly translucent, what Jensen can see of it beneath the hood of his oversized sweatshirt. While he doesn’t bother to look up often, he does cast a sideways glance at something stupid that Kaitlyn is saying about Taylor Lautner at one point and Jensen sees the deep, dark rings under his sunken eyes. 

Jensen expects him to bolt the second class is dismissed, but he hangs back as though sliding out of his chair takes too much effort. 

“Have you been sick?” Jensen finally asks.

Jared shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Are you eating?” Just the question sends a cold shiver down Jensen’s spine.

Pushing the hood far enough back for Jensen to take in just how gaunt he looks, Jared rolls his eyes. “Yes, mother, I’m eating.”

“Then what’s with the goth vampire look?”

He doesn’t even know why he’s trying to tease, but seeing Jared look so pitiful is breaking something in Jensen’s chest that might reside in the vicinity of his heart. 

Jared levels him with a flat glare. “Haven’t you watched enough television to know that I’m brooding, professor? That’s what we do.”

“Yeah, well, according to those novels, you don’t really give a shit enough to brood. You have no soul and therefore no capacity to care.”

It’s quite possible that even slapping Jared in the mouth wouldn’t hurt him as much as it looks like Jensen’s words do. “Don’t believe everything you read.”

*-*-*

An hour after his class ends, Danneel finds Jensen sitting at a desk in the front row, staring out the window. He’s not even really thinking about anything concrete anymore.

“Jensen, what the hell?”

He doesn’t even startle at her presence. “Nothing. I’m fine.”

“Alright,” Danneel says, stooping to his eye level on the other side of the desk. “I thought that getting laid would help, but clearly I was very, very wrong.”

Jensen shakes his head. “Didn’t even help a little bit.”

“Aw, sweetie, I’m sorry.”

She reaches for Jensen’s face and runs a gentle hand down his cheek. Normally, he would flinch away and tell her to cut it out, but he keeps thinking he’ll see Jared’s face outside the window if he waits long enough or stares hard enough. Maybe he’ll feel like he made the right choice if he just sits here for a minute more.

“He just wasn’t what I was looking for,” he hears himself say but, if pressed, he couldn’t tell her what it means.

“Maybe it’s for the best.” She cringes like she’s not sure she should have said that. “You don’t have to worry about getting fired, right? No prostitution for you.” In a smaller voice, she says, “Yay.”

The best Jensen can muster is a half-smile and a lackluster, “Yay.”

They sit together in the silence for a while and then Danneel says, “What about you, me, and Misha have an ice cream intervention this weekend?”

Quite honestly, the last thing Jensen wants to think about while he sits here, grappling with images of Jared’s dark, hollow eyes and betrayed expression, is ice cream. He’s not sure he should even tempt the thoughts that he wants to be having, but he shakes his head at Danneel’s suggestion anyway and blinks in her direction. “No, ya know what? You’re right. This is for the best, so I think I’m going to get dressed up and hit a couple of clubs. Try to pick up a guy I don’t teach in any of my classes?”

If Danneel sees through his ruse, she doesn’t call him on it. “That’s my little slut puppy.”

Jensen stands and hooks an arm around her shoulder as they leave the classroom and head back toward Jensen’s office. The only thing that sounds worse to him than picking up a guy in a club right now is sitting on the couch with Danneel and Misha, bemoaning the demise of a relationship that never should have existed in the first place, and that wasn’t really a relationship at all.

*-*-*

There are a couple of reasons that Jensen is dressed in threadbare jeans and v-neck tee, eyes smudged in dark liner and wrists weighted down with clunky, chain link bracelets. Okay, so there's one reason, but it kind of makes him sound pathetic, so he's going to pretend there is more than one reason.

This wasn't the plan. When Jensen told Danneel that he was going to go out and get laid this weekend, he really did intend to do just that. He thought he might shake things up and went looking for a change of scenery online, some club he hadn't tried before, something different for his fresh start.

He accidentally stumbled onto this place after typing 'vampire bars' into his search engine. He never actually intended to check it out, but it's only twenty minutes from his house. Also, Jared looked even worse in class on Wednesday than he had on Monday and the haunted look in his eyes won't leave Jensen alone.

Get in, prove his point, and get out. That's all Jensen has to do.

The bass vibrates in his chest, heavy and hypnotic, when Jensen slips past the bouncer into the dark interior of the club. He barely takes three steps before a heavy hand falls on his shoulder.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” Jared growls against his ear.

Jensen shakes off the shiver and turns with the best cocksure grin he can muster. “Wanted a drink.” Jared grits his teeth and Jensen feels a sick sense of vindication. “What's the big deal? You said it's totally safe.”

“With me it's safe, but you have no idea what you're walking into,” Jared says, shaking his head and yanking Jared by the arm into a semi-empty hallway. He doesn't stop until he's slammed the door of a small room and thrown Jensen onto the dingy duvet of a small bed. “This is a fucking feeding ground, Jensen. You walk through the door looking like sex and smelling like dinner, you're gonna be treated as such!”

“That why you're here?” Jensen asks around the rising lump of fear in his throat.

Jared hesitates. “I'm here because I was following you.”

“What?”

“I was outside the window the other night when you told Danneel that you were gonna go out and get laid tonight. It made me kind of crazy.”

“That's,” Jensen falters because, honestly, how's a guy supposed to respond to that? “That's not okay.”

With a self-effacing half-grin, Jared leans against the door and nods his concession. “No, I know. I wasn't gonna do anything. I think I just wanted to see you move on so I could do the same thing.”

“Well, I guess that answers that.” Jensen stands and runs his hands over his thighs. “To be honest, I was kind of hoping that your world was as safe as you said it was, but guess not.”

Jared doesn't budge when Jensen approaches. “Let me buy you a drink,” he says. 

“I'm sorry, what?”

“I've told you, more than once now, that you're safe _with me_. You wanna prove something, you go out there with me and you let me buy you a drink. Watch what happens.”

Jensen's every instinct screams for him to walk away. It was ridiculous to even think that he would get something out of this night, that it would change anything at all. 

But there's still a small voice in the back of his head that asks, _What if?_

“One drink,” he concedes. 

Jared's smile is brighter than Jensen has seen in weeks; it hits him harder than he thought it would.

*-*-*

“So you just move around and take vampire pop culture courses at different colleges?”

Jared leans back and shrugs, fingers lazily toying with a beer bottle. “I'm three hundred and twelve. What the hell else am I gonna do?”

It's a fair point, but it still makes Jensen laugh a little. It's easy to relax when it becomes clear that, as Jared promised, nobody is noticing them at all. “How about anything? I mean, man, I'm teachin' those courses and I love them, but even I don't plan on doin' this shit forever.”

“Hey, I find it fascinating.”

“Well, I think you're kind of lame then.”

Jared smirks, a tiny curl of his lip that shoots straight through Jensen's gut. “Yeah, but I'm a vampire, so.”

“That's your upside?”

“You're still here.”

Okay, so he has a point. Instead of admitting it, Jensen does a quick sweep of the club and then raises an eyebrow at Jared. “You honestly don't find this a little cliché? The whole atmosphere of goth and darkness or whatever?”

“You say cliché. I say classic.”

It would be so much easier to remember why Jensen has his reservations if Jared didn't have those damn dimples. “Of course. I bet your place is just like it, huh?”

Stepping into the opening as quickly as Jensen provides it, Jared raises an eyebrow and taps his bottle against the table. “You wanna find out?”

*-*-*

It's not a crypt in the cemetery or anything, but Jared's place is on the very edge of town, hidden down a long drive and concealed by a plethora of giant trees. If anyone did happen back here, it wouldn't be far-fetched for them to think that the place is condemned with its boarded windows and peeling paint, decrepit porch and all-around air of creepiness.

It's not exactly the cliché Jensen was assuming when they left the bar, but it's not surprising, either. 

“Please just tell me that you don't sleep in a coffin.”

Jared stops with his hand on the door and smiles over his shoulder. “Coffins aren't really big enough to do anything fun,” he winks. When he steps over the threshold and Jensen doesn't follow, he stops. “You gonna back out at the front door?”

“Just figured it's only polite to wait for an invite,” Jensen teases with a wink.

It's hard to believe that there is anything unholy or unnatural about the way Jared genuinely laughs. “Welcome to my humble abode, Professor. Won't you please come in?”

With the flick of a switch, the living room is bathed in soft lighting, warm and inviting. There's a giant leather couch in the center of the room and a fireplace on the far wall, a heavy rug with rich reds and golds and greens spread across the gleaming hardwood floor. The bookcases, television stand, coffee and end tables are all dark mahogany. It's like an old-fashioned library or something. Well, old-fashioned with a flat screen and giant stereo.

“Wow,” is Jensen's first thought.

Jared smiles knowingly and grabs Jensen's hand, leading him down a short hallway and into a room pitched in darkness. 

Jensen watches and Jared flicks a long lighter to the wick of several candles and thinks, _Now, this is classic._

The bed is enormous, the frame made of solid, wrought iron and covered in a soft, black and red fabric. The windows are draped in heavy, blood red tapestries that give not so much as a hint of the moonlight shining brightly outside. There are heavy swords crossed over a shield above the bed; Jensen has no doubt that they are authentic. 

Trying to think of something that doesn't sound stupid or too impressed, Jensen finally settles on, “It certainly makes a statement.”

With an easy smile, Jared sinks to the edge of the bed and holds out an arm. “Come here.”

“You fed today?” Even as he asks, Jensen is moving closer as though he's unable to stay away.

“How many times am I gonna have to tell you that you're safe with me?”

Jared runs a hand over Jensen's arm and pulls him in to the V of his spread thighs. “Until I believe you,” Jensen challenges, shuddering when Jared's breath ghosts over his collarbone.

“I'm not gonna hurt you,” Jared whispers into the hollow of Jensen's throat.

“Try it again.”

His tongue is pointed as it drags over Jensen's neck and jaw. Against his ear, Jared says, with more authority, “I'm not going to hurt you.”

Jensen's breath hitches when Jared's blunt teeth nip at his earlobe. “One more time,” he manages, though the words are broken around the lump in his throat. 

“I'm not going to hurt you,” Jared repeats, skimming his bottom teeth under Jensen's chin and around to his other ear. “I'm not going to let anyone else hurt you.” He moves wet, open kisses back to Jensen throat, down the neckline of his shirt, his fingers working the button on Jensen's jeans. “You are totally safe to relax. Not gonna bite you.” 

There are no fangs when he rakes his teeth back up Jensen's throat and slips his hand into Jensen's pants, palming the bulge of his cock with a firm touch. The sensation is overwhelming, more tantalizing than the first time, filling Jensen with nearly uncontrollable want and need. 

He grips Jared's shoulders and rolls his hips forward. “What if I want you to?” The words tumble out before Jensen can stop them, before he can even think about what they mean.

Jared massages him harder, the fabric of Jensen's underwear rough against his sensitive dick. “Not even then,” he promises. It helps to hear the catch in his voice when Jensen scratches the back of Jared's neck with his fingernails. “Wanna know you're here because you want this.”

“Yeah,” Jensen gasps, burying his face in Jared's neck. “Fuckin' want it.”

Jensen doesn't even care if he gets fired anymore. He doesn't care about anything. Jared slides his hands around Jensen's ass and down to his thighs, lifting him off of the ground and into his lap like it's nothing. Vampire strength makes Jensen feel like a rag doll; it should probably bother him a little more.

When Jared goes for his neck again, Jensen's feels the adrenaline surge, the _what if_ crashing through his chest and into his throat. He buries his hands in Jared's hair and grinds his hips down against the hard line of Jared's dick beneath his jeans. 

The last time they did this, Jensen didn't know. Now that he does, every grunt and growl that Jared makes against Jensen's skin seems more feral, more raw and primal, than they ever have. His bruising fingers against Jensen's thighs seem like vices. There's a fear in knowing that Jared could snap him in half, but there's a rush in it, too. 

Fingers fumbling, Jensen pushes Jared's pants open as far as they'll go and is surprised to find him wearing underwear this time. When he raises an eyebrow, Jared grabs the back of his neck and smashes their mouths together, tongue sliding next to Jensen's in response. He moans when Jensen runs the palm of his hand over the curve of Jared's dick through his briefs. 

Jensen would be lying if he said he didn't feel a surge of pride when Jared rocks his hips forward. “Look at you,” he teases, nipping at the bend of Jared's neck. “Three hundred and about to come in your fuckin' pants like a fourteen-year-old.”

Jared lifts his head and the grin he shoots Jensen in return is positively evil. “I don't have to wear mine home in the morning.” 

Jensen might shoot him a zippy comeback, if Jared didn't slide his hands around Jensen's ass and pull him forward until their cocks brush. Instead, he throws his head back and grips Jared's shoulders as tight as he can.

“Oh, fuck,” Jared groans, flopping back on the bed and throwing an arm over his face. “Shit.”

On instinct, Jensen looks down to find that Jared is still hard and doesn't appear to have shot off early. When he looks back up, Jared is blinking at the ceiling, fangs on full display in his open mouth. Oh.

Planting his knees on the bed, Jensen crawls forward to get a closer look. It's probably stupid - once they're out, it's probably more tempting for Jared to use them or something - but Jensen can't resist. He just wants to see.

“Don't.” Jared catches Jensen's wrist as he raises a finger to touch one. “Just give me a second.”

For once, Jensen feels like he has the upper hand here, so instead of heeding Jared's warning, he waits for Jared to release him and then uses both hands to pull Jared's underwear down. He bends lower enough to run the flat of his tongue over the seam of Jared's balls and up his shaft, swirling his tongue through the pre-come on the head before he sits back up and wraps his hand around Jared's dick. 

With a weak groan, Jared's eyes drift shut and he's beautiful, all stretched out on Jensen's bed with his face twisted in agony and ecstasy. 

“Show me,” Jensen orders, stroking Jared's dick far too slowly to be remotely satisfying. “I wanna see 'em, Jared. Show me who you really are.”

Rising to the challenge, Jared pushes himself onto his elbows, muscles pulling tight across his shoulders and chest. His lips curl into a sinister grin, his eyes so dark it appears the pupils have swallowed the irises whole. His fangs are long and thick . He gives a low chuckle that would be chilling in a dark alley.

Jensen's heart pounds against his ribs and his hand starts moving faster with the rush of the adrenaline. 

“You scared?” Jared asks, hips beginning to thrust into the rhythm of Jensen's hand. 

Eyebrow raised, Jensen fights to maintain his control. “Terrified.”

With what seems like no effort, Jared flips them over, threading his fingers through Jensen's and stretching them over his head. He ruts his dick against Jensen's stomach, lowering his face to Jensen's sternum. 

“Smell it all over you,” Jared mumbles. “Bet you taste so good.” His words cut off suddenly, his fingers clamping against Jensen's when he comes against Jensen's belly with a choked grunt. “Shit.”

When Jared doesn't move, Jensen groans a little. His dick is so hard it's starting to hurt; if Jared's done, he's going to have to roll over so Jensen can finish himself.

He's surprised to feel Jared's thigh pressing tight between his legs, grinding Jensen's underwear against his balls. When their eyes meet, Jared curls his lip further from his teeth and dips his head to brush the dry fronts of his fangs along the line of Jensen's jaw. 

Like he's been trained, Jensen shoots off immediately, back bowed and hands straining against Jared's hold as he comes into his own pants. 

His pulse is still racing when Jared flops onto his back falls uncharacteristically quiet. “Jensen?” he finally says.

“Hm?” 

Jensen's eyes are already starting to drift when he feels Jared's finger against his chin, tilting his face. His fangs are gone, a somber expression replacing them. “That's as far as it ever goes. I promise. I won't hurt you.”

The truth is that it's going to take more than a couple promised words and one sexual experiment to convince Jensen that this thing isn't going to end in his own bloody death. It's just hard to think about the end when this feels so much like a beginning.

*-*-*

Jensen doesn't tell Danneel or Misha that he's seeing Jared, but he's pretty sure they know. At lunch, Misha says things like, “Haven't seen you around much lately,” and Jensen just shrugs it off without explanation. When Danneel asks if he wants to hit a bar on the weekend, Jensen just smiles and says, “Can't. I have plans.”

They don't ask anymore questions and Jensen doesn't offer any further explanation. Plausible deniability was created for instances like this, wasn't it? For when a colleague is fucking a student who just happens to be a three hundred year old vampire? He's pretty sure he read that somewhere.

Sometimes, he thinks that Jared is more bothered by the secrecy of the relationship than anyone. 

“We grabbin' dinner after class tonight?” Jared asks the week before Spring Break, while Jensen is getting ready for one of his earlier classes.

He's reclined in his bed, miles of smooth skin and a bright smile that makes Jensen wish that he could find a job that adapts more to Jared's schedule. Sleeping during the day so he's more equipped to deal with Jared's voracious sexual appetite all night would definitely help. 

“You don't even eat,” Jensen teases, tightening the knot of his tie against his throat. 

Jared's eyes drift to Jensen's mouth. “Yeah, but I like watching you do it,” he says with a smirk.

Yeah, going back to bed right now would be the ideal scenario. “Sorry, it'll have to wait. I'm gonna catch some art show with Misha tonight.”

Disappointed is the only way to describe Jared's hangdog expression. “Right.”

Jensen walks to the bed and plants a knee at Jared's side, leaning over to brush his lips across Jared's forehead. “Sorry, kid.”

“Hey, you don't live to be my age without learning to adapt,” Jared assures him, but the sentiment doesn't quite reach his eyes.

“I'll make it up to you,” Jensen promises against his lips. Forcing himself to stop kissing Jared is growing more impossible by the day, but he does it with a groan. “Get some sleep. I'll see you in class tonight.”

It makes him smile harder than it should when Jared says, “I'll be there, Professor.”

*-*-*

Try as he might not to think about the fact that he's dating an actual, real life vampire, Jensen's curiosity gets the better of him sometimes.

“You never talk about your creator.”

Jared takes it in stride, humoring Jensen with a short laugh as he stretches an arm over the back of the couch and turns his body toward Jensen's. “We're not that close.”

“No?” Jensen turns, too, and maybe scoots a little closer. “You guys don't all have this twisted, unbreakable bond with the ones who turn you?”

Shrugging, Jared's mouth turns down a little in the corners when he thinks it over for a minute. To his credit, he never shies away from answering Jensen's questions, but it's pretty obvious that he doesn't always like the conversation.

“Creators are just parents, ya know? They bring you into the world and show you how it works. The ultimate goal is still to prepare you for independence and some of them are better at it than others. Some come by it accidentally and aren't ready for it. Some of them are just giant bags of dicks.”

“I'm guessing that's how yours was?” Though Jensen knows a thing or two about being estranged from his parents, it's kind of sad to think about Jared feeling the same.

“He was old-school. Kind of a supremacist, so we just had different opinions about pretty much everything. We parted ways, but it's fine. I mean, it was long ago enough that I don't really think about it that much anymore.”

“You ever fuck him?”

Jared looks at Jensen like he's suddenly grown a second head. “What? No, of course not!” His face twists in disgust. “He's my father, Jensen.”

He says it as though Jensen should know better. “Hey, look at it from my perspective. Erotic, sometimes love-hate relationships with your maker is kind of par for the course.”

“Alright, here's the skinny on vampire marriage and baby-making, okay?” Jared winks playfully, the distaste melting away. “First thing you should know is that vampires mate for life, so once we fuck each other, that's it. From what I've been told, you lose the taste for anyone else. You still feed, obviously, but it's solely for nourishment and no longer for pleasure. It's rock-solid, unbreakable. There's no such thing as vampire divorce, so you better make damn skippy that you're with someone you can stand for all of eternity, which is a long fucking time.”

“Damn.” Jared nods in agreement and Jensen deduces, “So you've never fucked a vampire?”

“Nope.”

“Holy shit. So I've done something you haven't?” Jared nods again. “My mind is blown.” 

Jared runs a hand up the back of Jensen's neck, smiling when Jensen shivers under the touch. “I have a way of doing that.”

“Don't flatter yourself,” Jensen warns without much heat.

*-*-*

It's almost six on Thursday evening when Jensen heads to his car, loosening his tie. Spring Break isn't as exciting as it used to be, but having an entire week to sleep in and bum around, watching bad television and being lazy has its appeal. This year, Danneel is heading down South to visit her family and Misha is long-boarding in Key West, so Jensen can wiggle Jared into his busy schedule without feeling the need to justify anything. It's shaping up to look like a very good vacation.

That is, until he finds Chad waiting for him in the parking lot. 

“I don't know where Jared is,” Jensen lies.

“Probably at home,” Chad says, tucking his hands in his pockets as he squints toward the sky, where the sun is sinking but not yet setting in the sky. “But since you brought it up, I just wanted to let you know that I'm over that.”

“Over it?”

“That whole overbearing, touchy-feely, obsession thing I had goin' on with Jared? Yeah, little time without contact clears that right up. I'm good now.”

The thought of someone knowing Jared's secret forces Jensen's heart into his throat. “I don't know what you're-”

“Dude, I know you think I'm a jackass, but I do have two doctorates so try not to treat me like a complete idiot, okay?”

Sadly, Chad is right on this one. Jared said it was consensual, his feeding on Chad. “You knew and you still let him...do what he did.”

Raising an eyebrow, Chad smirks. “Feed on me?” Jensen's reaction seems to give him a sick satisfaction. “Yeah, it's kind of a thing with me.”

“Why?”

“I don't know, man. Some people sky-dive. Or shoot heroin.”

“So it's like a drug?”

Chad shrugs. “Kind of. Without the deadly side effects.”

“Are you kidding me?” Jensen huffs a laugh and leans against the side of his car. “You're letting vicious animals nip at your throat.”

With a snort, Chad shakes his head. “Clearly, you haven't done the same or you would know that Jared doesn't feed from the throat.” Off of Jensen's blank look, he nods downward. “Femoral artery. It's like an instant shot of ecstasy, man. Never felt like that in my life.”

Jensen's hand shoots out and his eyes clamp shut automatically. “I don't need to know that.”

“Yeah, well, I just wanted you to know that things are good, okay? Nothing to worry about, so if you wanna start coming out with us on weekends again or whatever, no worries.”

“We can't really do that anymore.”

Chad nods knowingly. “Right. Because he's still your student. It's kind of funny. I mean, I've seen Dr. Whitaker at three different feeding grounds this semester alone, but you can't date a vamp because he enrolled in your class. Crazy world.” He pushes off of the car and pulls his own keys from his pocket. “Alright, whatever. I gotta run. Hot date with a siren, man.”

“I'm sorry, what?”

Patting Jensen's shoulder on his way past, Chad just shakes his head again. “You've got a lot to learn, Jensen.”

Jensen stands in the parking lot, staring at the pavement, long after Chad has peeled out of the lot. There are a million questions swirling through his head and only one person who can answer them. Thankfully, he has a week to ask them, to let Jared be the teacher for once.

*-*-*

Even when Jensen was in college himself, he didn't spend an entire week in bed with the same person. Staying up all night, sleeping all day is a schedule he figures he could probably get used to, though. Conversations with Jared are almost as interesting as fucking Jared. Almost.

“I know you're close to Danneel and Misha, but you never talk about your family.”

They're lying together in a post-coital glow where everything is fine and nothing hurts. Jensen wants to close his eyes, not cuddle up for a heart to heart, but Jared's fingers are hypnotic on his arm and Jensen finds himself speaking anyway.

“Not much to tell. Dad runs a Fortune 500 company and Mom's a trophy wife. I didn't turn out to be everything they dreamed I would, ya know?”

“You're a college professor. I'd say that's pretty impressive.”

Jensen chuckles and slides his hand over Jared's hip. “Ivy leagues would be impressive. Podunk U in Nowheresville, Michigan? Not so much. My mother once told me that she would rather I teach remedial and GED courses at a community college so they could at least tell their friends I was doing charity work.” 

Jared just huffs and Jensen figures there isn't much in the way of family drama that could surprise him, not after so many years of observing the fucked up things humans can do to each other.

“After grad school, I just stopped showing up for holidays. For some people, family is huge and I get that. Danneel is crazy close to her parents and her brother. It was always just a word to me. Once in awhile, I get an e-mail from my sister, but now that she's married, she doesn't really have the time to check in all that much. I think about all of them sometimes, but I know I did the right thing.”

Wrapping an arm tighter around Jensen's waist, Jared draws him in and chuckles. “I admire that,” he says.

“What? That I abandoned my family? Or that they abandoned me?”

“That you did what was right for you, regardless of your society's standards and obligations.” Clearing his throat, Jared says, “I tried to do that, and look how it turned out. Of course, I'm with you, so I guess it's not all bad, huh?”

Jensen rolls away from Jared enough to prop himself up on an elbow. “What do you mean?”

“Times were different when I was alive.” Because Jensen's not a big fan of the inference that Jared is actually dead, Jared flashes him a smile and corrects himself. “Before I was a vampire. I mean, you say that you were born in eighteenth century Poland and people automatically think of cultural progress and art, but-”

“Nobody thinks that, Jared,” Jensen interrupts. At least, Jensen doesn't think that. He doesn't admit that he doesn't really think anything of early eighteenth century Poland at all.

Jared just laughs and shrugs. “Alright, fair enough.”

The thing is, Jensen doesn't mind talking about himself, but Jared has been around for a hell of a lot longer and his life is far more interesting. “Go on,” he encourages, flopping onto his back like a kid waiting for a bedtime story. 

“Alright, well, I was born right at the turn of the century and we were common and poor and, really, I'll spare you the details because there were illnesses that involved festering wounds and it's kind of gross.” He nudges Jensen with a knee and winks when Jensen rolls his head against the pillow in response. “Anyway, the point is that during and after the Great Northern War, shit was oppressive and it blew, but it was the only life I knew, so I did what I had to do to survive, to help my family do the same.”

There will never be a time when Jensen doesn't find the way Jared speaks somewhat hilarious. He uses modern language as if he's been speaking it his entire life, phrases like _shit was oppressive and it blew_ slip into his historical re-tellings like nothing at all. The first couple of times, Jensen found it jarring. Now it's just endearing.

“We were hungry and I had to work to help my family, so this cobbler in our village made a deal with my father that he would hire me if I would marry his daughter. “ Off of Jensen's raised eyebrow, he says, “It was 1720, Jensen. Different times. A twenty-one-year-old woman was seen as too old to be desirable, so he dumped her off on the first guy who was too hungry to say no.”

“No, I get it. I just. You worked for a cobbler? Seriously? All I ever see you wear is flip-flops and beat up cowboy boots. Where's your sense of professional pride, man?”

“I left it in 1721,” Jared deadpans before leaning over to kiss Jensen quickly. “Smartass. Can I continue?”

“Please do. I've been waiting months to hear about the hideous ex-wife I never knew you had.”

This time, Jared's laughter bursts loud from deep in his chest. “She was actually kind of beautiful, wicked intelligent and in love with this guy who was a part of the reform movement that would eventually rise up and give way to the Enlightenment. So, ya know, she wasn't so much into me, either.”

“Sounds like an arranged marriage made in heaven.”

“It wasn't all bad. Her passion for the reform was kind of contagious and I started to think that maybe things could change, that they could get better. Of course, that's when I met Radek. At least, that was his name at the time.”

Jensen feels like he's interrupting a lot tonight, but Jared should probably be used to that by now. “What was your name back then?”

“Jarek,” Jared answers with a knowing smirk. “It means _spring_. Very masculine, I know.”

Disappointed, Jensen rolls his eyes. “You have the creativity of a door knob.”

Slipping a hand slowly down Jensen's side, past his hip, and onto his outer thigh, Jared says, “That's not what you thought about fifteen minutes ago.” 

Oh, Jensen would like to let him continue, but his growing need to know everything about Jared, not to mention the fact that he's still too worn out from that position Jared twisted him into before, cancels his libido for the moment. 

“Fine. Proceed,” Jensen says, jerking away in the name of self-preservation.

“Now I forget what I was saying.”

“Young Jarek met Radek,” Jensen prods.

“Right. Okay, so I met Radek and he was talking about this other rebellion, this uprising of a different kind. He was so charismatic and convincing.” Jared stops and tilts his head a little. “Or maybe I was just desperate to find something to believe in as much as Halina did the reform.”

“Halina was your wife?”

“No, my housekeeper,” Jared fires back. “Of course she was my wife. Are you paying attention at all?”

“You're naked,” is Jensen's only defense. 

“Anyway, eventually Radek told me that he was talking about a vampire rebellion. I thought he was drunk at first, but then he took me to meet Lucian. Man, Jensen, if I could describe him to you. I don't even know. He was just. Everything. Think LeStat, only hotter and more hypnotic. He was building an army and I had to be a part of it.”

Jensen tries to imagine that twenty-two-year-old Polish kid with a wife at home and a passion for some kind of meaning in his life. It's so unlike any story he's studied for his classes.

“Did you know you'd have to turn in order to be a part of it?”

“I was young and stupid, but I wasn't an idiot,” Jared answers with a smile. “I just didn't care. I went home to tell Halina about it because, I think in some ways, I wanted her to join me. That's when she told me that she was pregnant.”

Well, there's a twist Jensen didn't see coming.

“There was no way to know in those days if the kid was even mine. I mean, it was pretty well-established between us that she was going to keep fucking her rebel boyfriend and I was going to keep fucking anybody I wanted to, so we came up with a plan. I would leave to join the vampires and she would use her current state to leverage a wedding to that other guy. Nobody in their right mind, not even her asshole of a father, would let an unwed woman walk around pregnant.”

“So, wait,” Jensen interrupts, hoisting himself into a seated position and looking down at Jared on the bed. “You chose to turn into a vampire because why again?”

There's this look that Jared gets sometimes, this look that says Jensen is the most amazing creature he's ever seen. It shoots straight to Jensen's heart, sometimes lower, and Jared is wearing that look right now. “Because I was living in a war-torn country with a woman I had affection but no real love for, and working for just enough food to hopefully get through another day. The notion of living forever and doing whatever I wanted without the threat of a random attack on our village or starvation or syphillis was pretty damn enticing.”

“So your options were vampire or syphillis?” Jensen squawks.

Jared laughs. “I thought so at the time.”

“Jesus.” When Jared flinches, Jensen closes his eyes and tips his head toward the ceiling. “Sorry. So, what happened? I mean, you obviously turned and joined the army.”

“We did, me and Radek,” Jared nods. “And then we realized that it was a bullshit cause. They were talking about vampire tradition over human progress. It was as though all of the vampires who were starting to migrate to other parts of Europe to assimilate were seen as these sympathizer who were destroying everything. One day, Aldis looks at me and says, 'Correct me if I'm wrong, but doesn't revolution mean to change something? So then why are we fighting for it to stay the same? Isn't the change, the revolution, already taking place somewhere else?' And I realized he was right, so we deflected and headed for London. From there, we took a boat to the States and eventually settled down in what became San Antonio. I still have a place there.”

Jensen's face twists in confusion. “Who the fuck is Aldis?”

Blinking from the memory, Jared says, “Oh, Radek. Sorry. He goes by Aldis now.”

There comes a time when a man has to admit that he's never going to understand everything about his ancient, vampire boyfriend. This is such a time for Jensen. If his eyelids weren't growing so heavy, he might press further, but it's getting way too late for this human to be awake.

“You still keep in touch with him?” he asks as he slides back down to curl one leg over Jared's thigh.

“Yeah. Him and Genevieve. I'll tell you all about her crazy ass some other time. Go to sleep.” 

With a soft huff, Jensen lets his eyes drift closed. “You gonna lie there, starin' at me like a creep all night, Cullen?”

Jared takes the barb in stride, trailing his fingers down the line of Jensen's back. “Shit, no. Sun's up in about fifteen minutes.”

*-*-*

An unseasonably warm day sweeps over the campus in early April, a promise of the spring to come though winter could slam back in just as easily tomorrow. The sun is warm on Jensen's face when Danneel stops next to his car and takes a deep breath, her jacket over her arm and her skin flushed from the wind.

“Ya know what we should do?” Her eyebrow quirks and her face lights up like a child. “Late lunch, early dinner picnic at the lake.” 

“I've got a lot of grading to do,” Jensen lies. _I'd rather head to my boyfriend's house in the woods and get naked instead_ seems like the bad-friend thing to say.

Danneel just rolls her eyes. “Bullshit. You've got a lot of Jared to do.” It's the first time she's addressed the situation so directly. “Bring him.”

Bring his vampire boyfriend to a picnic in the middle of the sunniest afternoon of the year so far? Probably not the best idea.

Mistaking the reasons for his hesitation, Danneel reaches out to rest a hand on Jensen's arm. “Look, there are a million reasons that I should be telling you to dump his ass and run as far as you can in the other direction, but it's obvious that you like the guy. I should at least get to give him my stamp of approval, no?”

“You've met him. More than once.”

“At a couple of bars, yes. That doesn't count.”

With a heavy sigh, Jensen runs a hand over his hair and nods. “Alright, you're right. We'll do dinner some night soon, I promise.”

“Wait,” Danneel says, catching the door as Jensen starts to climb into his car. “What about today? C'mon, Jensen, it's so beautiful.”

“Alright, fine. Just let me go home and change and we'll meet you out there.”

Something is going to have to give at some point. Either Jensen has to tell Danneel the truth about Jared, which he's pretty sure isn't really an option at all, or he's going to have to find some other way to work around Jared's inability to hang out during the day. He can handle it for awhile, sure, but she's too smart not to get suspicious eventually.

*-*-*

After a quick trip home to grab a few more changes of clothes and a couple of books from his office, Jensen drives over to Jared's place and finds him sleeping.

“Of course,” he mutters to himself, checking his watch to see that it's nearly four o'clock. Maybe he should just head out to meet Danneel after all.

He's in the middle of sending her a text, letting her know that Jared has other plans but that Jensen will be happy to spend the afternoon at the lake, when he feels Jared shifting in the bed, his foot skimming the back of Jensen's sweater. 

“Morning,” Jared groans and Jensen makes the mistake of looking back long enough to see Jared stretching, lithe and naked, against his dark sheets. “C'mere.”

Stupid-hot, naked boyfriend. Warm sun. Sex with stupid-hot naked boyfriend. Conversation in the warm sun. Decisions, decisions.

Before he can make the choice himself, Jared's chest is pressed to Jensen's back, his hands nimble against the hem of Jensen's shirt. “Put the phone away,” he orders against Jensen's ear.

“Just a second,” Jensen tells him, backspacing to amend his message. He's not going anywhere. 

Jared's hands snake under Jensen's sweater, his lips moving from the shell of Jensen's ear and down the side of his neck. “Put it away.”

Jensen rolls his eyes, pretends it's not incredibly distracting, and says, “Gimme two seconds, grandpa.”

“Grandpa?” Jared chuckles against Jensen's skin. “How much do you hate that I'll forever be younger than you?”

It would probably worry Jensen a little if he ever stopped to think about it. It's actually hard to think about anything with Jared's hand slipping around his waist and down to his lap, insistent fingers toying with the line of Jensen's cock through his khakis.

“What are you doing?”

Jared nips at Jensen's ear and whispers, “Just reminding you that I'm here.”

“Like I ever forget that.” Jensen's fingers fumble on the keys and he huffs impatiently. “You just woke up. You can't possibly be ready for -,” he stops short when Jared quickly works his belt and the button of his pants open as if it's nothing. 

“I only have base needs. Sex and food and I'm good.”

Jensen tosses his phone to the floor and turns enough to see Jared's playful grin. “I thought we agreed you're only allowed to think of me as one of those things.”

When he slips his arms around Jared's shoulders, Jared turns his head and trails his nose along Jensen's neck. “Mmm,” he moans with a soft laugh. He pulls back quickly. “Hey.”

“What?”

“You're not,” Jared dives back in, scraping at Jensen's throat with the front of his teeth. “Your heart's not pounding.”

Jared's hand is still cupped against Jensen's dick, so Jensen rolls his hips forward when he says, “I'm into it, I swear.”

“No, I mean you're not afraid.” He sniffs at Jensen's neck and then pulls back, startled.

Jensen can't say when he started to trust that Jared wasn't going to screw up and bite him in the heat of the moment, but it's been awhile since he gave that fear any credence. “Huh. Guess I trust you.”

As if that's all it takes to flip some kind of switch in Jared, he has Jensen naked and stretched out beside him in seconds. The sweater Jensen just bought hangs in tatters off the edge of the bed, but Jensen doesn't have time to complain before Jared is moving on top of him.

“Wait,” Jensen groans, laughing as he pushes Jared away. 

With his hair flopping into his wide eyes, Jared looks every bit the twenty-two-year-old college kid Jensen met a few months ago. “What?”

“I wanna enjoy this, too, man.” Jared's brow furrows in confusion. “Let's try it at my speed, okay?”

Tucking his arms behind his head, Jared heaves an exaggerated sigh. “Alright, fine. We'll go painfully slow for the human.”

“Hey, you wanna go find another vampire to fuck for the rest of eternity, you go right ahead. Nobody's stoppin' ya.”

“I'd rather decapitate myself.”

“Okay then.” 

Jensen hooks an arm around Jared's neck as Jared slides over him, slotting perfectly between Jensen's spread knees. Virtually every version of vampire mythology Jensen remembers seeing or reading implies or outright states that vampires are cold. Jared isn't. He's not a blast furnace of heat or anything, but his skin is perfectly sleep-warmed right now, dick hot against Jensen's hip as he kisses a wet trail down his chest and toward his stomach.

Sometimes, Jared will drag the foreplay out for hours, mouth mapping every last inch of Jensen's skin until Jensen is writhing and begging and choking on his need for something more. Sometimes he just dives right in, lubes Jensen up and takes what he wants without so much as a ' _hi honey, how was your day?_ ' Jensen honestly still can't tell which one prefers.

Today, he seems to be mixing it up. His intent is clear as he makes his way down Jensen's body with playful licks and kisses on the way to his intended target, but he's not rushing anything, either. Stopping short, he rests his chin just below Jensen's navel and grins wickedly into Jensen's eyes. “You ready?”

“For what?”

“You'll see.”

A month ago, the cryptic answer and the glint in Jared's eye would have scared the shit out of Jensen. Now it just makes his dick harder.

When Jared's mouth seals over the head of Jensen's cock, Jensen presses his head back into the mattress and groans from deep in his throat. Jared's tongue is long, pointed and focused on flicking against the underside of Jensen's dick. He feels the back of Jared's throat opening and closing against the head and Jensen nearly loses his mind. There are definitely advantages to being sucked off by someone who isn't bothered by something as trivial as breathing.

With both hands, he grips Jared's head and presses him down, lifting his hips to fuck into the tight wetness of Jared's mouth. Jared just moans in response and when Jensen lifts his head to look down, to see Jared's lips stretched wide and stuffed full of cock, he has to pull Jared off. He doesn't want this to be a quickie.

“Too much?” Jared asks with a smirk that morphs into a full-fledged smile when he uses one hand to trail lazily over Jensen's balls. 

Jensen just lets his head fall back to the mattress, a long groan of appreciation following when Jared uses his other hand to push Jensen's thigh further open. His lips are practiced, soft and sure, against Jensen's leg, sucking what are sure to be deep bruises into the pale skin.

Two words fight to the center of Jensen's sex haze, making themselves clear in his consciousness: Femoral artery. 

His breath hitches in his throat. He lifts his head simultaneously with Jared and their eyes lock in silent conversation. Jared's eyes dance with amusement when his fangs appear. He looks down only long enough to run his nose along Jensen's hip and over the top of his thigh. “Not even a hint. I feel emasculated.”

It may not be the reaction Jared's looking for, but the sight of him – cocky and fanged and dangerous – sends a shot straight to Jensen's balls, drawing them up tight and causing him to rock forward as best he can with Jared still holding his leg down. 

He reaches for his dick and Jared skims the front of his teeth along the line of Jensen's femoral, the collaboration causing Jensen to seize, his vision blacking at the edges, come pulsing so hard it aches. The only sounds in his ears are the crashing of the blood in his veins and the rough growl from Jared between his legs.

Jared is once again licking and sucking at Jensen's thigh when Jensen's thoughts finally fight back to coherent. When Jared lies back at Jensen's side, Jensen looks down to see that there is no broken skin, nothing to worry about at all.

“Never wanted to feed so bad in my fucking life,” Jared whispers against his shoulder before pressing a nearly chaste kiss there.

“Could've,” Jensen tells him, surprised to find that he means it. It's not because of the high Chad described, but because he really does trust that Jared won't go too far.

Jared's hand is light as they travel Jensen's arm, his palm firm when he threads their fingers together and then raises them to his mouth to kiss Jensen's knuckles. “Can't. Not ever.”

“Why not?” Jared just raises an eyebrow. “It's stupid on so many levels,” Jensen goes on. “I mean, for one thing, you already know I want to be with you, so what would it even matter?”

Jared sighs, a habit born of assimilation rather than necessity, as he rests their joined hands against his chest. “I'm not taking that choice out of your hands. I never want to wonder.”

“Fair enough, but Chad says it wears off after a couple of weeks with no contact. So if you were that worried about it, couldn't you just go somewhere for a couple of weeks? Or I could. I mean, it's almost summer break. We could just go our separate ways and when we get back, you'd know, right?”

It's stupid to fight about it, really. Jensen doesn't even want to be bitten. There's a tiny part of him that wonders about the high Chad described, but that's it. Just seeing Jared's teeth makes him come harder than he ever has so, naturally, Jensen wonders if the bite would make it even more intense. It's not something he sits around thinking about or anything.

“Too much risk,” Jared answers. “I mean, in most cases, it's true that broken contact will dissolve the tie, but there's no hard evidence or time line on that. I'd never be able to fully trust it.”

“Do you believe Chad's over it?”

“Yeah, I guess, but it doesn't matter with him. If I had to stay away from him forever, I wouldn't hate it.”

“You and me both.”

Jared chuckles and squeezes Jensen's hand. “You know what I mean.”

A small thrill shoots through Jensen's chest, knowing that Jared would hate having to walk away from this forever. He's nowhere near ready for the kind of forever commitment that mating vampires have or anything, but for now, it's good to know that he's not the only one sticking around to see what happens next.

*-*-*

 _Hey, Jensen, it’s Misha. Officially, I’m calling to tell you that Dr. Whitaker would like to meet with you at five thirty tomorrow afternoon. If you absolutely cannot attend at this time, please call me back to re-schedule as soon as possible. Unofficially, I’m telling you that this is because some fucknut in your seven o’clock expressed suspicions about the possible inappropriate nature of your relationship with one of your students. I’m really sorry, man._

*-*-*

“What’s wrong with you?” Danneel asks from behind her desk, barely glancing up from the paper she’s reading to spare a look in Jensen’s direction.

With the phone still pressed against his ear, Jensen fights the urge to replay Misha’s message. “I have a meeting with Dr. Whitaker tomorrow afternoon.”

“Oh yeah? About what?”

Jensen’s legs feel numb. “Jared.”

Dropping the paper to the desk, Danneel looks up with alarm. “What?”

“I’m going to get fired.”

“Okay, hold on.” She takes a deep breath and folds her hands against the top of her desk. “You don’t know that for sure.”

“Pretty sure they’re kind of strict about this rule,” Jensen shoots back with a raised eyebrow.

Danneel nods her concession and then shrugs. “But this is your first offense, so maybe there’s some leniency in that, right? Just tell them that it was a mistake and that it will never happen again. Shoot him those doe eyes and those pouty lips and you’re in, man.”

“I don’t wanna lie to him.”

“So don’t.” Danneel’s brow furrows as she leans forward. “Jensen, you’ve known this kid for three months. He can’t possibly be worth sacrificing your entire career.”

She became his best friend out of necessity. Danneel was the only person Jensen knew when he moved up here four years ago. He was the only person she knew, too. Somewhere along the way, it became a choice and Jensen hates seeing the silent condemnation behind her eyes right now.

“Look, I’m not asking you to understand it. Just trust me. Please.”

“You’re acting like a child,” Danneel dismisses, leaning back in her chair with a disgusted turn of her nose. “This is not your first high school romance, Jensen. Be a grown up about it, okay? He’s twenty-two and about five weeks away from graduation. You really think you’re going to be more than story he recounts at a reunion ten years from now? Do you honestly think you’re more than the hot college professor he fucked around with?”

“He’s not leaving after graduation,” Jensen mutters, though her words are swirling in his head faster than he can keep up with them. 

“Oh, come on,” Danneel scoffs derisively. “He’s not going to stay here forever, even for you.”

Forever. She’s right, Jared can’t stay here forever. Sooner or later, he’s going to get bored with the three classes their school offers at night. Even if he doesn’t, he’s going to have to take off before people start noticing that he never ages. He’s going to leave eventually.

“I gotta get outta here.”

“Jensen,” Danneel calls after him, her voice pleading with him not to make her the bad guy. 

He doesn’t look back, just keeps his head down as he makes his way toward the parking lot. He doesn’t want to end things with Jared, but Danneel is right. He’s going to be gone in a few weeks and all Jensen is going to have is his career. He can’t lose that, too.

*-*-*

Jared shows up late to class and sits in the back of the room with his hood pulled over his face for a full hour. It’s weird and it helps Jensen to remember that the sun is staying out longer now, that the days will just keep getting longer, and that Jared will have to leave eventually.

He sits through half of the movie he’s showing tonight before he realizes that he doesn’t have to be here if he doesn’t want to be. He exits without further instructions, figuring the kids will know to leave when the movie ends, and stalks toward his car with determination. 

Jared is sitting on his couch when he gets home. Jensen can't help but stare at him until Jared says, “I ordered take-out. Thai.”

With a shake of his head, Jensen tries to clear his mind. “You should go home.” Jared doesn't move. “Go on. I uninvite you.”

“Doesn't work that way, Sookie,” Jared says with a smirk, arms stretched along the back of the couch. “Once I'm in, I'm in. So why don't we talk about whatever's bothering you like adults?”

“Dr. Whitaker knows.”

“What?”

Jensen moves from the entry into the living room and leans against the back of the oversized arm chair. “Misha called today. Someone in the class blew the whistle. I don't know who. So as of tomorrow, I'm out of a job.”

“Jensen,” Jared says, but he stops when Jensen holds a hand up.

“And it occurred to me that this thing with you and me is just a fucked up fling. I'm going to lose my job over a fucking fling.” Jared straightens, mouth opening to speak again, but Jensen interrupts him with a question. “You're not hangin' around when the semester's over, are you?”

“I honestly haven't thought about it much.”

“You have to go, though. I mean, you're not going to spend fourteen hours a day in the house during the summer.”

“It's not ideal, but there are options. I mean, I usually spend a few months south of the Equator. I don't have to, but I can. I mean, my schedule's kind of wide open, ya know?”

“Mine will be, too, after tomorrow,” Jensen says, allowing his shoulders to relax a little. It helps that Jared is calm, but he can't help thinking that tomorrow is going to be his last day teaching. 

The doorbell rings and Jared goes to pay for the food. When he returns, Jensen is still standing next to the chair, trying to wrap his head around this day.

“Come here and eat. We'll worry about our future after that.”

_Our_ future. Jared says it as though they have one together. It probably shouldn't make Jensen feel better – the impossibilities are still too numerous to fathom – but this might be all he has left soon. It has to be enough.

*-*-*

 _Jensen, it's Misha. I'm calling to cancel your five thirty. I'm sure you've heard the rumors, but Dr. Whitaker was hospitalized this morning so all of his appointments are being postponed for the time being. Who knows how long it's going to take to get his blood count back up and figure out what makes a guy randomly and suddenly anemic enough to just cold pass out in a public restroom, right? You obviously didn't hear that from me. We should grab drinks to celebrate your dodging the bullet this weekend. Call me back._

*-*-*

Numb is the only way to describe Jensen at the moment. He's staring at the kitchen wall, thoughts spiraling but refusing to take root, all feeling gone in his limbs. Listening to Misha's message doesn't make it better, though he's tried four times now. It only reinforces the fear that is creeping from the back of his mind to the front with gaining momentum.

He should talk to Jared – it's the only way he'll know for sure – but he doesn't want the confirmation.

He already knows for sure.

*-*-*

After three days of calling off work, dodging Misha and Danneel, avoiding Jared, Jensen has had enough. He's got to get out of the house for a few hours.

The fact that he waits until sunset to start running should probably tell him where he's going to end up. He's still a little surprised when he's standing on Jared's front porch, and even more surprised when Jared opens the door before Jensen even knocks.

“We need to talk.”

Stepping aside to let him in, Jared's hands are stuffed deep into the pockets of his hooded sweatshirt, his eyes trained on the floor. “You haven't answered my calls.”

“I know.”

“Jensen.”

“No, shut up.” The anger wells up quickly, boiling over as Jensen spins on his heel to meet Jared's eye as soon as the door is closed. “Never had an accident, my ass!”

“I haven't!” Jared shoots back, hands up in defense as though Jensen might solve this by punching him in the face. To be fair, Jensen probably would, if he thought it would work at all. “This was the first time, Jensen, I swear! I sealed the wound as soon as I realized I had gone too far and I called the hospital yesterday. They said he's going to be fine.”

“That is not the point! You nearly killed a man, Jared.”

“You think I don't know that?” Jared shouts back, his eyes rife with guilt and regret. “Believe me, it wasn't supposed to go that far, but I wasn't paying attention. I lost track, I admit it. I screwed up.”

“You told me you don't have accidents. _Accidents happen_ , I said. _Never to me_ , you said. You said never, Jared,” Jensen says with mockery so thick it almost hurts his head.

“I know what I said!” Jared is nearly roaring now, a sound that is frightening enough without the angry look in his eyes. “This was the first fucking time, okay? I made a mistake. I fucked up. You don't think I get that? I know what I did, but I also know that he's going to be okay, so it's not the end of the fucking world.”

“So what? You can just shrug it off like you forgot to take out the trash?”

“What the fuck do you want me to say,? I realized it before it was too late and I stopped. Nobody died and I fucking saved your precious job in the process.”

“And I'm, what? Supposed to be grateful for that? You nearly murdered someone to save a job that I never asked you to save in the first place! Do you want a goddamn thank you for it?”

“I want you to realize that I fucked up _one_ time. People do that!”

“You're not a person!”

The words hang in the air, suspended between Jensen's open mouth and Jared's wounded face. 

When Jared turns on his heel and storms out of the house, slamming the door behind him, Jensen has to tamper the urge to go after him. 

Jensen is in the right. Jared tried to manipulate Dr. Whitaker, to ensure his loyalty by feeding from him, and nearly killed him. It's not okay and Jensen is not wrong to be upset.

_Poppy Kincaid._

The name jumps into his head without warning; it’s been years since he even gave her a second thought. In high school, she and Jensen were a perfectly matched set for their mothers to dote over and their fathers to brag about. Miserable as it was to be told who date and where to date her, Jensen ended up actually liking Poppy as a person. They snuck out of parties together, got buzzed on stolen champagne, and played video games or listened to music until some caterer was sent to find them. If Jensen had to have a girlfriend, he was glad that girlfriend was Poppy.

Or he was, until the night of their junior prom, when Poppy got so hammered, she could barely keep from tripping over her own feet. The other guys on the lacrosse team thought it was hilarious, but Jensen wasn’t amused until he'd pounded back too many drinks of his own. The Dean of Students decided that the night was over when Poppy climbed into Jensen's lap and tried to shimmy out of her dress right there at the botanical gardens.

Jensen's father's driver took them back to the pool house and instructed them to stay put until they slept it off. He said he would take Poppy home in the morning. They were supposed to pass out together, not end up naked and fucking on the floor near the bathroom. Even when she was crying and begging him to love her as much as she loved him, some part of Jensen's alcohol-fogged brain knew that it was going to end badly. He should have stopped it before it got that far.

While the world didn’t end, Jensen’s friendship with Poppy never really returned to the easy place it had once lived. She’s married now, has three kids and a life that she loves to e-mail him about once a year. Breaking up with her made it possible to tell his parents that he was gay and uninterested in hiding it anymore. Even though it kind of worked out okay in the end, it was still a stupid mistake.

Jared made a stupid mistake, too.

Jensen crosses the entry in two steps, yanking the front door open to find Jared standing on the porch, gripping the railing as he stares out over the yard. “Stormed out of my own damn house,” he explains over his shoulder, chuckling a little at his own stupidity.

“I’m sorry,” Jensen says in response, stepping outside to watch Jared’s profile. “You’re probably more human than a lot of the people I know. That was uncalled for.”

Jared just shakes his head but doesn’t bother turning to meet Jensen’s eye. “You’re right, ya know? I’ve tried for years to pretend that I’m just like everyone else, that my being a vampire is just like any other personality quirk, but it's not. I have the power to kill people.”

“Jared.”

“I know you’re scared,” Jared interrupts. He doesn’t add that he’s just as scared, but he doesn’t have to when he meets Jensen’s eye and it’s radiating back. “I think I’ve spent the last three centuries trying to forget that it’s in me, that I’m capable of that. I don’t ever want to do something like that again.”

“So don’t.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“I think it can be.” Jensen shrugs and moves forward, watching Jared back away as Jensen gets closer. “Learn from the mistake. Be more careful next time. Only eat because you’re hungry, not because you’re trying to save me from the consequences of my own choices.”

“I feel like you’re more pissed that I tried to fix your problem without your permission than you are about me almost killing someone.”

Jensen finally closes the gap between them when the railing keeps Jared from moving any further over the edge of the porch. “Man, I knew that sleeping with you was against the rules when I started doing it. That was my risk to take and those were my consequences to shoulder. I don’t need my boyfriend to fix everything for me, okay?” He doesn’t actually listen to what he’s saying until Jared raises a curious eyebrow. “Stop it. We are not in junior high. Stop grinning like an idiot over a stupid word that doesn’t change anything.”

“Right. I'm sorry. I promise I will not manipulate anyone else on your behalf. And I won't almost kill anyone ever again.” His smile dims a little at the mention of the incident. “So we're okay?”

Jensen steps forward and rests his hands on Jared's hips. “I think we both have to be more careful, but yeah. We're good.”

*-*-*

“What the hell do you mean you're leaving?”

Jensen looks up from the box he's packing to smile at Danneel, slack-jawed in the chair across his desk. “I mean it's time for me to move on.”

“The investigation was dropped. You don't have to go anywhere.” 

Stopping with a hand on the top of the box, Jensen smiles. “I know I don't have to.”

“Alright, what the hell is going on?” Danneel crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes like she's digging in for a fight.

With a sigh, Jensen leans a hip against the desk. “Jared got a job in Washington, up near the Canadian border.”

“So?”

“So, right after graduation, I'm going with him.”

“What?” She shakes her head as if that will help clear her ears. “Jensen, you've only known that kid since January!”

He's already had this discussion with Misha. He expects it will get a lot louder and uglier with Danneel. “I know,” he concedes with a nod, reaching for another box to start loading up the books on the shelf beside his desk.

“That's four months. You cannot move your entire life for a co-ed you've been banging four months!”

“Technically, I've only been banging him for about two and a half, almost three months,” Jensen teases.

Danneel doesn't think it's funny. “This is the dumbest, most impetuous thing you have ever done. I do not approve.”

Quite honestly, that stings a little. It's not that Jensen needs Danneel's approval, but she _is_ his best friend. “C'mon. I know it's crazy, but I wouldn't do it if I didn't think it was the right thing for me. And think about it this way: it gives you a free vacation destination. Crash on our couch any time, right?”

Alright, so maybe offering her a couch in his vampire boyfriend's lair isn't the best idea, but Jared has promised that someday, in the future, if the time is right, he will let Jensen tell Danneel everything. 

“Have you talked to Misha about this?”

“Over lunch today.”

She stands up and presses her fists to the desk between them. “I hate you for this,” she says. When Jensen leaves the books on the shelf to round the desk and wrap her in a hug, she adds, “I mean it,” with a slight quiver in her voice. “I will never forgive you.”

“I know,” he whispers against the top of her head, pressing a kiss to her temple. 

“Nobody else gets to see me cry, Jensen.”

“So don't cry.” Laughing when she punches his shoulder, Jensen grabs his keys from the desk and hooks an arm around Danneel's waist. “Let's go get a drink. C'mon, I don't wanna walk to the car by myself.”

She rolls her eyes but slings an arm around Jensen's waist in response. “You're such a baby,” she teases, as though she's not the one who's always grabbing at him at the slightest noise.

“Hey,” Jensen defends with a grin. “You never know what kind of creature might be lurking out there in the dark.


End file.
